


Playing Dangerous Games

by ErykaOnyx



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 04, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-04 18:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErykaOnyx/pseuds/ErykaOnyx
Summary: Jeremiah's bomb plot is thwarted. Lee emerges from her deadly encounter with the Riddler, emboldened and certain of her mission to improve the Narrows. She's been given a new life and is intent to show she deserves the title of Queen of the Narrows.*A counter part fic to This Troubled Man





	1. Awakening

She didn’t know how long she was floating for but gradually, she came to the surface. Lee Thompkins opened her eyes to a cracked ceiling. Her body was sore and she felt tired but she was not in terrible pain. In fact, she was decidedly alive, a state she hadn’t thought she’d return to after losing consciousness.

There was a small gasp from the left of her and a face swam into view. A mature Asian woman with severe bangs was regarding her with a warm smile. “Welcome back, Doctor,” she said kindly. She moved away and a moment later, Lee felt something poke at her lips. She opened her mouth reflexively for the straw and sucked down a stream of cool water. She took several gratified sips before gasping aloud for air.

“Where,” she forced out, her voice rough from disuse, “am I?”

“You are in my home, on Bendriss street,” the woman responded. Lee turned her head and watched the woman set the glass down and take a seat next to an open window. The sky outside was oddly bright; normally the sky above the Narrows was gray and dark and from below she could hear the squeals of children at play.

Lee focused on the woman. She was familiar to her but she couldn’t exactly place her.  


The other woman saw her struggle and chuckled. “I am Amanda Huang. We… I own the laundromat at the end of the block. My husband was Robert. He was killed at Cherry’s, by Sampson.”

Lee instantly remembered. She had seen the man shot at point blank range and recalled his wife and daughter reaching through the ropes to get to their fallen patriarch but she had only seen them from behind. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, remembering the shock of the day.

Amanda Huang only smiled, shaking her head slightly. “For what do you apologize? You took revenge on Sampson when you took back your throne. I was in the crowd. I saw what you did to him.” She closed her eyes briefly, obviously recalling the memory with pleasure. “That was Narrows justice.” 

Lee went quiet. She had bashed Sampson’s hands to nothing but bone fragments. When she was done with him, he was crying like a child and screaming worse than she had. She had given no definitive order; instead she’d allowed her people to take him out and do what they willed. The whispers that came back was that he’d been shot and dumped in Gotham River, his family threatened into leaving their neighborhood. Lee shook her head, to clear the dark memories, and the motion made her stomach burn with pain. She hunched over and threw back the blanket that covered her, drew up the oversized shirt someone had put her in. There was a bandage covering her wound that she peeled back to inspect the injury. The cut was about 2 or 3 inches along. It had been poorly stitched, but it was closed and the edges showed no signs of infection or irritation.

”I'm used to stitching clothes, not flesh," Amanda demurred. "But I did the best I could."

Lee gave her a trembling smile. "Thank you."

She pushed herself into an upright position and Mrs. Huang stood up. "I will get you something to eat. You must be starving."

Lee's eyes followed her as she moved around the spartan room. Leaned across the wall across from her bed were tattered bookbags, overflowing with bandages, pill bottles, and other medical supplies. Next to the pile sat a fat man dozing in a chair. Lee recognized him as Big Dave, a regular at Cherry's and a familiar face in the Narrows. When Amanda passed him, she placed a hand on his shoulder and brought him to waking. He straightened up instantly, his eyes darting from Amanda before landing on Lee. He smiled through a busted lip. 

"What's up, Doc?" He said rising from his seat as Amanda slipped from the room. "Boy, am I glad to see you awake."

Lee swallowed heavily and asked, "How long was I out?"

"Six days," Dave answered gravely. 

Lee digested that info then said, “Tell me what happened." 

”Well, the usual crew showed to set up for Fight Night and they found you and Nygma bleeding out on the floor. They knew youse two wouldn't make it to Gotham General in time so someone ran and got Mrs. Huang and she was able to patch up the two of ya."

"She saved Ed too?" Lee's head swung around and she finally recognized the presence of a second bed, white and pristine, beside her. "Where is he?" she demanded, more forcefully than intended. 

Dave looked startled. "Nygma woke up three days ago. Huang tried to get him to stay and rest but he took one look at you and she couldn’t stop him from busting out of here. We all thought he was going to take care of whoever attacked you both."

Lee held back a bitter laugh. Of course they'd think an outside enemy was to blame. Ed had pulled the knife out of his own stomach to plunge it into hers. If he had left it in, he undoubtedly would have survived. But he wasn't going to let her walk away unscathed, surely not. And now he was gone and she'd have to be ready for when he resurfaced. 

"What's going on out there?" She asked, nodding at the open window. 

“Cops was able to stop Jeremiah’s bombs from going off so the damage ain’t as bad as it coulda been. It’s been a quiet week in the Narrows, tell ya the truth, Doc. Feels like the whole neighborhood’s waitin’ to see when you’d wake up.”

Lee took a minute to absorb the news. The GCPD had stopped Jeremiah’s plot, their success at least partially owed to Ed and his helping with the maze. She’d hold that bargaining chip for the next time she came face to face with Jim Gordon.

She took a moment and glanced around. “Where’d that come from,” she questioned, nodding at the cache of medical supplies .

Big Dave grinned. “Coupla kids from the neighborhood got themselves together and hit a pharmacy uptown. They got as much as they could carry and brung it back here. There’s been a group of them, hanging around downstairs, waiting on ya just like the rest of us.”

Mrs. Huang returned with a steaming bowl of soup that Lee accepted gratefully. The rich broth and strong seasoning filled her up and put strength back in her limbs. While she ate, Mrs. Huang stood next to the window, looking out it to the children playing below. From her position, Lee could hear them as they sang a bouncing, childish tune.

“She’ll bash you with a hammer, she’ll shoot you with a gun  
If you get on her bad side, then you had better run.  
No Falcone, or Cobblepot, or even Barbara Kean  
Can stand against the might and terror of the Narrows Queen!”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “They have a high opinion of me,” she commented.

“There has never been a person like you in charge of the Narrows,” Mrs. Huang said simply. “You give the children much to cheer for.”

Lee was moved by the kind words. It gratified her to know that the neighborhood had not descended into chaos while she was recovering. And that average people like Mrs. Huang were actually concerned about her well-being. Her relationship with Ed had gone belly up but her efforts as the Queen of the Narrows hadn’t been in vain. And she was still alive; she could still help this community.

She drifted back to sleep. The next time she awoke, she carefully put her feet in the slippers Mrs. Huang had left for her and rose on shaky legs. She didn’t intend to travel far but she absolutely needed a breath of fresh air. Someone had gone to her clinic and grabbed the white coat she wore when she worked. She slipped it over the loose garments she wore and headed downstairs.

She avoided the elevator and main stairs and instead trudged down to the back entrance that would lead to the dumpster in the back alley. When she pushed open the door, she could hear the children, still at play, still singing their songs.

“You can try to blast her with a bomb or stab her in the guts  
The Doc’ll come back and kick all your nasty butts

These lines were chanted by a pair of girls turning double dutch for a third. Down past them, another trio of kids kicked a ball back and forth. Her eyes were drawn to a lone boy, sitting atop the lid of the closed dumpster. He was a little bigger than the rest, maybe 13 or 14, Black and lanky, dressed in a charming striped vest and loud sneakers, nicer than most of what the Narrows’ kids wore. Actually, they were all better dressed than Lee was used to seeing, bright eyed and energetic.

The young teen caught sight of her and quickly scrambled to his feet. “Doc!” he proclaimed loudly, catching all the kids’ attentions. The little girls squealed and ran up to her immediately, swarmed around her. 

“Doc, we’re glad you’re okay!”

“Doc, we waited on you to wake up!”

“Did you like our song, Doc?”

Lee's eyes darted between the three and their bombardment. “I did,” she said, answering the last question. “Though I don't know how accurate it is.”

“Alright, alright, let the Doc breathe.” The boy pushed his way through the gaggle of girls to stand before Lee whom he nodded to with careless ease. He had a cigarette tucked behind one ear and his natural hair was cut and styled into spikes, looking like the points of a crown. He had even dyed the tips blonde. 

Lee's face screwed up a little. "Do I know you?" 

The boy grinned at her. "Not me. My big brother works at Cherry's. Always wears a pair of goggles? His name's Alan but everyone calls him All-In."

Lee remembered the young man that Cherry often sent scurrying to find her whenever a fighter needed her aid. Her eyes passed critically over the sibling who stood straighter under her scrutiny. "And what's your name, little brother?"

"I'm Roman," he declared. "Always roamin', fastest two feet in all the Narrows."  


Lee chuckled. "Well, Roman-always-roaming, are you responsible for the medical supplies upstairs?"

"I helped!" One of the girls interjected. She was Asian, her mouth pressed into a determined line as she faced Lee. 

"Are you Mrs. Huang's daughter?" Lee asked, taking a guess. The girl nodded. She had dark circles under her eyes, uncommon for a child her age, but when you witnesses your father killed in front of you, such things may happen. 

"So we went uptown to the Gotham Drugs on Broad street, right? And Amelia caught the pharmacist right after he locked up. She distracted him and I lifted the keys. We waited into the night and when we got in, we took as much as we could carry," Roman recounted excitedly. "We were in and out in 20 minutes."

Lee gave him a stern look. "I appreciate the concern but I won't have you stealing for me, Roman."

"You and Riddler stole for us," Amelia pointed out with a careless shrug. 

"Riddler and I are adults," she said solidly. 

"Betcha if I get caught the courts'll think I'm an adult," Roman joked without a trace of bitterness. 

Lee's eyes narrowed. She would have argued further but her exhaustion was catching up to her. Roman noticed this and turned to the other kids, barking orders. "Yo, bring me that milk crate!" The younger children scrambled to obey and a moment later, Roman was guiding her to take a seat. She thanked him then plucked his cigarette from its place behind his ear. 

"You're too young to be smoking," she chastised.

Roman merely grinned. "I don't smoke, Doc. I just nab a few from my brother and dad to sell. Don't worry, I'll put a dollar on your tab."

Lee shook her head, chuckling at the boy’s nerve, while Roman produced a lighter and lit her cigarette for her. She was not a frequent smoker, being a doctor and all, but she had been known to bum one in times of celebration or stress. She couldn't decide which applied to her current situation; she was certainly pleased to still be alive but there was work ahead of her, hard work that she would have to steel herself to complete. 

Her mind drifted to Ed... Riddler. She had thought herself a step ahead of him but he had surprised her with his viciousness. She shook her head at herself for being stupid. Ed was a sociopath, of course he'd use every avenue of violence to protect himself. She tried to convince herself of that but she couldn't stop remembering the night of her arrest. He had seen her, truly, accepted her in that moment... But in the end, he had proved himself the same as Jim, as most men who believed it was up to them to shape their women in their desired mold. Ed had thought her weak enough to be influenced by Jim Gordon and then sought to take the role of influencer. Lee knew he thought himself a master manipulator - which he undoubtedly was - but the fact that he had seen her as another mark made her burn with anger at his presumption. 

Her thoughts would dwell in darkness if she let them. She didn't yet know what she would do regarding the situation with Ed but she would have to form a plan. Before that, there were crucial steps to take, procedures that would solidy her place in the Narrows and keep the people who relied on her safe. She had much to do. 

“Hey Roman,” she called, lightly tapping the ash off her cigarette. 

“Yeah, Doc?”

“You say you’ve got the fastest feet in the Narrows. How would you like to perform a job for me?”

A wide grin came onto his face. “Lay it on me, Doc.”

***

Her first week after waking up was spent seeing patients in her clinic. They came in droves and for a moment she was worried but it quickly became obvious that everyone who visited wasn’t coming for medical advice. They were mostly just coming to see her survival for themselves. It was common talk in the Narrows that Doc Thompkins had now survived three attempts to displace her. Her reputation was growing and with it, the people’s faith in her. That emboldened her. They hadn’t given up on her - like Ed had - and now she would not abandon them either.

Three weeks after the attack, Lee was feeling closer to her old self. She wasn’t at 100% but there wasn’t any more time to waste. Not if she wanted to make the Narrows fall into her hands. 

That night, she was at Cherry’s mingling with the crowd while Fight Night commenced. The newly self-appointed bartender Roxy had taken it upon herself to become the new announcer since Ed’s disappearance. The young woman with the black lipstick and the numerous facial piercings was a crowd favorite and Lee made a note to speak to her later about making her position a little more permanent.

Lee mingled with the crowd, drink in hand. Wherever she moved, people recognized her and wished her well, clinking their glasses or bottles against hers. The atmosphere was warm and friendly, even with the two men fighting to the death in the background. 

She waited until the match was over and All-In and a couple other barhands were moving the body out of the ring and mopping up the blood left behind. And she climbed up onto the ring, slipping gingerly through the ropes. At the sight of her, the crowd broke into cheers and chants. She endured them, waving out to those gathered as Roxy set up a stool for her in the center of the ring. She motioned to someone in the upper wings and a spotlight illuminated the area for Lee to occupy. 

She was dressed in a casual chic outfit - a red crop top, showing more skin than she was usually comfortable with but for this display, she needed her stab wound on display. She combined the top with black high waisted pants, thick heeled boots, and the white coat she wore while she worked at the clinic. Her lips were painted with the same matte red she’d worn to the Riddle Factory. The image was both stylish and professional. She took a sip of her drink before addressing the audience. “Damn, it’s good to see all your faces. Why didn’t anyone tell me I was taking on such a dangerous job?” 

As the crowd laughed, Lee positioned herself on the stool. “You all better get comfy. I’ve got a lot to say.” She paused, surveying the crowd. “I never expected to be here in front of you all. I'm not from your neighborhood or even this city. My life was set to look very different from what it is now. Once upon a time I was a doctor, a medical examiner. I had a fiance, a surgeon who was the son of a rich and powerful man. He was the heir to an empire. And I...was pregnant.” A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd for a moment before Lee continued. “And then, all within a year, I lost my child before it could be born. And my husband was killed by an officer of the GCPD.”

She heard several shocked gasps, someone booed and the crowd rumbled in discontent. 

Lee nodded. “Yes, so maybe you can now see why I’m so devoted to caring for the children of the Narrows.” 

The crowd made affirming sounds. From near the bar, a woman put her glass in the air. “Yo, raise one up for the Doc.” 

Almost everyone in the room raised their glasses while many chanted her name. Lee responded with her own raised glass and took a healthy swallow of her warm rum. She stood up as she set down her glass and faced the crowd. “I have another confession to make. Before I settled her, I briefly worked for the GCPD.” 

The crowd burst into another chorus of shock. Lee looked back and forth, letting them argue, letting them weigh this new revelation against the reverence and respect they’d just shown her. She heard someone in the crowd, speaking to their neighbor, “I don’t know if I trust someone that worked with a bunch of cops.”

She raised one hand, reclaiming everyone’s attention. “Yes, I worked there. And I saw firsthand the daily corruption and incompetance of the city’s police that are supposed to protect you. But they don’t. Instead you are harassed, beaten, profiled and unfairly arrested. I’ve seen the case files of murder victims from the Narrows sit on desks for weeks at a time, before they’re eventually lost in the shuffle of new crimes, unsolved, uncared for. That is how they feel about the people of the Narrows!"

The crowd was a jeering mess of angry howls. People stomped the floor, shoved tables aside, distantly she heard the shattering of a glass. “Calm," she called out, raising her hands. “You bust up anything in my place and you're paying for it!"

A smattering of laughter sounded and the crowd seemed to relax a little so Lee continued speaking. “Every day I’m learning about this place. I’m told, it’s every man for himself in the Narrows. I’m told that this neighborhood has never bent to an outside boss.” 

“Goddamn right!" someone shouted and set up a chorus of aggressive shouts. 

Lee retrieved her glass and bent balancing her elbows on the ropes so that she leaned forward into the crowd. “But I’m an outsider,” she pointed out. 

‘You’re different, Doc!" someone shouted immediately. 

“Why am I different?" she fired back. “Why choose to follow me?"

“You got rid of Cherry and Firefly!"

“You fixed up the fighters!"

“Ya gave out all that cash!"

Lee pointed out into the crowd. “Ah! Bet that’s something that’s never happened in the Narrows before.” 

“No ma’am,” the crowd chorused. 

“You know what that says to me? It says that trying something new, something you would have previously never considered, gave you a reward unlike anything you’d seen before. I know everyone who came in that day walked out of here with several thousand dollars for their families. I see you enjoying the profit. Yeah, there’s a lot of new looks up in here,” she said, grinning at the crowd. “But that’s what I wanted to give you, a little prosperity to lift some of the misery I see down here. Do you see how making sure that everyone has money contributes to a healthier community? You don’t have to stab someone in an alley if you’ve got your own cash to worry about.” 

She straightened up and began a slow circulation of the ring, so she could speak to each part of the assembled crowd. “The powers that run this city know that. They know that they have to keep you scrabbling and fighting over limited resources so that you don’t turn your anger on them where it belongs. You’re too busy ripping apart the person next to you that’s forced into the same situation. I don’t want that for you. I want to make it so that when you tell someone you’re from the Narrows, you’re able to say so with pride.” 

The crowd cheered for a few seconds before someone shouted out, “HOW?”

Lee snapped her fingers. ‘It’s not going to happen overnight and it’s not going to be an easy process either. I have many plans that I’ll start working on in the weeks to come. Before any of that can happen, the Narrows needs to get together and learn that your neighbors are your allies. And everyone not from here is to be your enemy.” Most of the responses she heard were positive, with a few grumbles of concern. “Don’t believe me?” she challenged them. “I’ll tell you what happened at Gotham Savings and Loans. Penguin and his henchmen showed up with the intent to take the plunder for themselves. Thankfully, Riddler was there and he tricked them into a situation where they were trapped. But without him, you wouldn’t be enjoying the spoils of that heist. Penguin, a man with more money and power than all of the Narrows put together, decided that you weren’t deserving of that money.” 

People appropriately booed and hissed with a few angry, ‘Fuck Penguin’s thrown in. Lee nodded. “I got lucky that night, so to speak. But if it happens again, Penguin may be successful. He has more money, guns, and bodies than I do here in the Narrows. The only reason the bigger bosses don’t set their sights on taking the Narrows for themselves… well, they feel like there’s no benefit to it, that you all aren’t worth it.” She could see she was stoking their anger and used that to her advantage. “This is a good thing,” she declared. “Anything that keeps away the outsiders or those who would abuse and mistreat you, like Sampson, is a good thing for you.” 

“This place is going to transform, under my hand and with your help. I know that you don’t agree with every decision I make. Lots of people don’t like that I shut down the Riddle Factory or put an end to the cockroach eating contests. I know I’m not as cutthroat as some of you down here, that my desire to solve things without bloodshed is not a popular one. So be it. We don’t have to agree on methods but I do need an agreement of loyalty. You all showed that when you worked with Riddler to get me out of the GCPD. Now, I need more. Protect me and I will do the same for you. Follow me and I will lead you to a place you’ve never seen before.”

The room exploded with applause. Lee let their adoration wash over her and without thinking, glanced over her shoulder to where she could normally find Ed watching, looking over her. Her jubilation waned when she realized he wasn’t there, that she stood alone. She felt a moment of sadness but shook it off. It wouldn’t serve her to be caught acting like some lovestruck, jilted girl. She needed to become the woman who would elevate and protect the citizens of the Narrows. That was her role now and she would dedicate herself to that cause. Ed was a loose end that she knew she’d eventually have to deal with. Until then, she was the Queen of the Narrows and she intended to protect her position or lose her life trying.


	2. Gathering The Pieces

The days after her speech at Cherry’s, Lee found herself content to walk the streets of the Narrows. 

It was about mid August so still warm enough to walk with little more than her white coat for protection. She wore it to be easily recognized and it did work. From South street to Dylan, from 11th to Fulton, Lee made a point to know the neighborhood that had fallen under her protection. That meant knowing what families lived where and who owned the local businesses in the area. She made herself seen and the people of the Narrows responded positively. She gave her phone number to any who wanted it while she had to constantly turn down offers of food and drink while making her rounds. She was invited into many homes and got to see how her and Riddler’s heist had helped the people. Jim Gordon could wax poetic about the importance of adhering to the law but his words fell empty. Her actions had improved the lives of many and that was more gratifying than empty platitudes. 

She was molding the beginning steps of her plan to fortify the Narrows. Riddler torched the property deeds of a lot of buildings in the Narrows. Lee didn’t know much about property law but without ownership documents, she reasoned it would take some time to sort out who owned what. [She made a mental note to read up more on the legal procedures of this.] Until that got sorted, she would use the empty buildings to her own benefit. 

As she walked the streets, she saw for herself how desolate the neighborhood could be, how bereft. It was an industrial island of slums, warehouses, and stackhouses crammed together to form one depressing ghetto. The assignment she’d given to Roman was to travel the Narrows and write down the address of every empty property. There were, of course, businesses that served the neighborhood but not enough to generate any substantial type of revenue. The money they’d distributed from the bank heists was a good starting point but it wouldn’t last indefinitely. Eventually, it would leak out of the community, spent in nicer establishments uptown. Before that happened, she had to find a way to support money making businesses that kept the economy of the Narrows running. The empty properties were the first part of that. 

Young Roman had delivered and then some. More than just identifying the properties, he’d taken the pains to categorize them. A ‘safe’ property was tagged with a blue cross in the middle of a white circle. One that was not so safe, either from rotting infrastructure or territorial squatters, was tagged with a red and white capsule. Buildings inhabited by various gangs were marked with a green syringe. Residential buildings were tagged with purple DNA strands. Later, Lee would press a crisp hundred dollar bill into Roman’s hands which the boy would regard with awestruck reverence. 

The next part of her plan was to secure the Narrows against outsiders. The neighborhood was the smallest island in all of Gotham but home to about a tenth of the city’s population. That was roughly 90,000 people under her jurisdiction. However, there were six avenues of entry from the Midtown neighborhood of Fort Clinton and three out of the Narrows leading Downtown to Cobble Hill. She acquainted herself to anyone with an apartment that oversaw the entry and exit points. This was a preemptive measure, of course. Such information wouldn’t come in handy unless they were at war with an outside force. Lee knew that the relative peace wouldn’t last indefinitely and she needed to be ready for when it broke. She was not going to let herself be caught unawares.

As she went about her preparations, Jim Gordon made an appearance. He entered Cherry’s while she was at the bar, scrolling through her phone and marking points on a map. Roxy, the new bartender, clicked her tongue and muttered, “Copper,” alerting Lee. She turned as Jim approached, looking as stern and authoritative as ever. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said as way of greeting. “I thought you were leaving Gotham weeks ago.” 

Lee carefully flipped the map in half, obscuring it from view. No need for Jim to start asking questions that didn’t concern him. “I had a change of heart,” she answered, reaching for the new glass Roxy had set and poured. “This place has a habit of growing on you.” 

“I’m grateful for the help you and Ed gave us,” he said. “You helped save a lot of lives.” 

Lee raised her glass in a toast. “Glad to assist.” She took a quick sip and fixed him with a critical eye. “Anything else?” 

“Lee…” He sighed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I almost hoped you had gone.”

“And why’s that?” 

“Because I’m afraid you’re going to continue on this misguided path you’re on. You slipped through the hands of the law because you were lucky. That won’t hold up forever.” 

She gave a derisive snort. “Thanks for the tip, Jim. But I’m a grown woman. And I’m no longer your responsibility.” It grated on her that he thought he could comment on her behavior and that he attempted to chastise her like a parent would a child. To her, his brand of chivalry was just dressed up sexism. He was a White Knight and any woman he loved was just a pretty princess prop for him to protect and make himself feel good. How else to explain the deterioration of all his relationships? Her, Barbara, even Sofia - once they got too strong, the relationship broke apart. 

Jim didn’t comment on that. Instead, he changed tactics. “Where’s Ed? No one’s heard from or seen him in weeks.”

Lee shrugged, turning away from him. “Who knows? He’s like a housecat. He comes and goes as he pleases.” She raised her glass to take a sip. 

A loaded pause then, “He left you, didn’t he?”

Lee set her glass down hard and fixed him with a cool glare. “Goodbye, James,” she said sternly. One glance and the barhands were closing in, ready to eject him if he didn’t go quietly. Smart as he was, he chose to leave of his own volition, casting her another worried look that she ignored. 

She didn’t need Jim getting familiar and showing up more often. Her speech to the Narrow had been carefully crafted and just a little embellished and twisted. She hadn’t disclosed that she used to date the Captain of the GCPD or that the baby she’d lost belonged to him. There were some things that she was sure would not fly with her new neighbors. 

“That guy always looks like he’s got a really big stick in a really painful place,” Roxy remarked as she wiped down some glasses. Her black and white dyed hair was styled in elaborate towering curls. “Although, I’m kinda curious where the Riddler went to.” She looked to Lee. “You really don’t know, Doc?” 

“I really don’t,” she answered, attempting to sound nonchalant. 

“Shame,” Roxy said, sucking her teeth. “He’s a particular kind of eye candy.” 

Lee arched an eyebrow. “You think so?” she asked, unable to help herself. 

“Sure. He’s a little slimmer than I like a man but other than that, he’s tall, dark and handsome. What’s not to like?” She smiled, remembering something. “I was part of the crew who helped him get you out of the GCPD. I kept hoping he’d notice me,” she said, rolling her eyes, as though embarrassed. “But like, he’s a super genius and I didn’t even graduate high school.” She shrugged, turning away to stack the clean glasses. “Best to set my eyes somewhere lower.” 

“Somewhere better,” Lee suggested then took a hearty gulp of her drink. 

She didn’t need to be distracted with thoughts of Ed. During the day, she went about her duties of running the Narrows but when the late night found her drinking alone, she found herself thinking of him. She wondered which personality he was wearing, Ed or the Riddler, and if he felt any type of remorse for what he’d done. That seemed unlikely; he was not a man burdened by moral complications. She wondered if he was taking care of his wound, if he was graced with a twin scar to match hers. Most of all, she wondered where he was or what he was up to. He’d likely find refuge with Penguin. Locking him in the bank vault was one thing but the pair of them always seemed to find each other, no matter how often their betrayals recurred. That realization sparked a twinge of bitterness in her and she chastised herself for being jealous. What did any of it matter? She had got what she’d wanted out of Ed and now she would move forward without him, just as it was always supposed to be. She tried hard to convince herself of that. 

On one of these contemplative late nights, she wandered into his old room above the bar. There were little in the way of personal effects and Lee set about clearing the room, cleansing it of Ed’s presence. She cleared the room of old newspapers, empty pill bottles, and strangely, a noose. She pulled it out from under the bed, disturbed by the loop of braided rope. Maybe Ed intended to implement it into his pseudo-Penguin act. Whatever the intention, Lee set about untying the noose and recoiling the rope into a harmless loop. 

The last items she removed were off a clothing rack. Ed’s ‘performing suit’, the suit jacket with the brilliant, glittering green sequins and the black beaded bowler, matching in their ostentatiousness. Lee ran a hand over the sequins and briefly hugged the garment to her, inhaling the scent of Ed’s long dormant cologne and felt a painful sense of loss. She missed him, fiercely, but she couldn’t let herself get lost in those feelings. She couldn’t turn back so she folded the clothes and stashed them somewhere safe. 

She buried herself in work. She left management of Cherry’s largely to Roxy. The pierced young woman had stepped up to keep the place running while Lee was recovering from her stab wound and Lee needed as much help as she could get. Bubbly and vivacious, she was more than happy to boss people around, pour drinks, and collect cash. This worked out since Lee found herself needed in many more places than usual. 

She worked more days in her clinic, sometimes accompanied by Amelia Huang who hung around after school hours. The young girl seemed hungry for knowledge so Lee showed her how to stitch wounds, how to take blood pressure, how to read a pulse. She was so calm and sure-handed, Lee was sure a career in medicine could be a viable option if she chose to pursue it. 

They were working together one day, cataloging the clinic’s supply inventory when Lee stopped what she was doing, alerted by Amelia’s sharp gasp. She looked up to see a quartet of men in the doorway. The leader was a hulking figure in studded leather with spiked blonde hair, wearing a surgical mask, and carrying a baseball bat across his wide shoulders. 

Her pistol was in her hand in an instant, pointed at the newcomers. “Try something,” she challenged. 

“Whoa, Doc, easy,” the lead man said, holding up a hand. He removed his mask and smiled, revealing many gaps in his teeth. “We ain’t here to cause trouble.” 

Without the rush of adrenaline, Lee recognized him. He was regularly at Cherry’s and the Riddle Factory when it was still open. “You’re...Vincent, right?” 

He nodded graciously. “You got it, Doc. Vinny. This here’s Frankie, Isaac, and Lolo.” 

Lee slowly lowered her gun, “What can I do for you all?” 

“We got business for ya, Doc. Mind if we kick back for a second?” 

She considered for a moment then nodded. “Sure. Have a seat. I’ve got tea or something stronger, if you prefer.” 

Vinny ducked his head to enter the room and his three companions stayed on the door. Lee watched the massive man tramp across the small clinic to take a seat that groaned under his weight. He withdrew a flask from the inside of his heavy leather jacket and raised it in her direction. “Salud,” he said and took a pull. 

“I think we’re done for today,” Lee said to Amelia. “You better head home before your mother starts looking for you.”

The girl hesitated. “You sure, Doc?” Lee noticed she had a scalpel clutched in one tight fist. 

“Of course. Go on.” Lee waited until the girl departed before refocusing on the huge man before her. “So what’s up?” she asked, taking a position leaned against the wall. 

“I’ve seen you walking the streets lately,” Vincent started. “And I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be moving about alone.” 

Lee arched an eyebrow. “And why is that? You know something I don’t?” 

“I just know it’s the Narrows,” he replied, shrugging. “People like you but that don’t mean everyone does. Look, when you were new here, you had Riddler and his man Grundy at your back. I don’t know where they’ve gone to but you’re alone now and in need of some muscle.” 

“That’s where you and yours come in, is it?” 

Vincent nodded. “Sure right. I’ve seen you speak a few time at Cherry’s. You ain’t a bullshitter. That’s why I wanna offer my services. Let me and my people watch your back. You need some force if you’re gonna get this place in line.” 

Lee’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to help?” she asked. “You look like the type of man to live by ‘everyone for themselves’.” 

He smirked and leaned back in his chair, legs splayed in front of him. “Yeah well… You’re tryna show us a different way, right? Shit, seems like you’re the only one who gives a shit about other people in the world and ain’t tryna fuck over everyone else. That’s reason enough, far as I’m concerned.” 

Lee was already formulating a plan, going over options. Her eyes flicked to the three in the hallway. “Are you guys a gang?” she asked. 

Vincent scoffed. “I wouldn’t call us that. We ain’t got a racket like the Chessmen or the Undead. Just think of us as concerned citizens, here to instill peace and justice in the Narrows.” 

Though he said it jokingly, Lee was intrigued by the idea. “I think I can find a position for you and your people. You’re right, I could use an enforcer at my back. How about this: I get you and one other to flank me. The rest can patrol the streets and keep the peace.” 

“Sounds good,” Vincent said decisively. He slapped his thighs and rose to his full height. 

Lee surveyed him for a moment before speaking, “There’s one more thing I could get from you.” 

“Name it, Doc.” 

“I want you to teach me how to fight.” 

And so it came to pass that Vincent’s people started walking the streets of the Narrows, armed with whatever blunt weapon they could carry, the intent to protect the neighborhood and with the blessing of Doc Thompkins. They broke up the occasional street fight and kept the other, more established gangs from involving civilians in their operations. If there were outsiders or newcomers in the neighborhood, they made sure they didn’t overstep any boundaries or wear out any welcomes. Because of the surgical masks they donned, the people started calling them the Med Students. 

She began training with Vincent three times a week, first thing in the mornings. They used a nearby building for their sessions. Her training regimen started with speed laps, strength exercises, and boxing lessons. She had to establish a base before they tackled some more violent practices. As she battled against fatigue and strain, she made a personal pact to cut back on her drinks and eat better. She couldn’t do much about not getting enough sleep. She was too busy for that. In the space of a few weeks, she had lost five pounds and gained some noticeable definition in her upper arms. 

After falling into a routine, she felt comfortable enacting the next part of her plan. She’d shared her idea with Roxy and the young woman commenced the announcement at the next Friday Fight Night. 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and those who know better, I need ya to listen up!” Roxy strode around the ring, her black and white hair teased into a Bride of Frankenstein style. She was dressed in a sparkling mini-dress, towering strappy heels and black leather gloves with the fingertips cut away. “I have two announcements to make. The first!” She put a finger in the air, the other hand jammed authoritatively on her hip. “Moving forward, 10 percent of all Fight Night money will be donated to a personal bail fund here in Cherry’s that will be available to any person in the Narrows who finds themselves arrested. All of you enjoying the entertainment and drinking up my booze are encouraged to kick in a few dollars. Nobody likes sitting in a cell while you scramble to get up some money, right? This bail fund created by the Doc will make sure you get back to your families a little quicker. Show some appreciation!” The crowd started roaring and chanting appropriately and Roxy twirled amongst the applause. 

“Now for the second announcement and you’re really gonna wanna hear this. This coming Monday, Doc Thompkins will be hosting A BUSINESS FAIR! Not sure what that is? Well, in her ongoing efforts to brighten up this shitrock we call home, the Doc’s decided to put these rundown sheds to use. Anyone with a viable business idea is encouraged to come through and state their case. Think of it as the Narrows’ version of Shark Tank. If it sounds good, the Doc pledges 50% of the starting cost to get it off the ground and you will promise 25% of all revenue to be taxed back to the Doc. Your business must meet two established criteria. It must generate money and it must benefit the Narrows. Cherry opens up at 8 AM on Monday. This is first come, first serve so come bright and early if you want to be heard. A close mouth don’t get fed and a lazy ass don’t get paid!” 

The crowd roared again, their curiosity and excitement palpable. Lee watched from a removed position, high in the upper areas of the bar. She was excited too and ready for her plans to unfurl. For the most part, the people of the Narrows loved her. Now, they had to work for her and for themselves to improve their lot in life. She was ready to show them the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit filler-y but I have to establish the setting before I get into the heavier plots of heists, betrayal, and sex. I'm trying to develop Lee as I see her. She is a manipulative person but her motivations are purer than her methodology. I'm playing off the rise of her sense of vigilantism in season 4 to make way for the woman who could successfully hold down a notoriously violent and corrupt district. I have a lot of ideas and I'm super excited to put them down in words. Hopefully, you readers are enjoying yourself. I'll update this chapter later with some screencaps from the show. I'm trying to make regular characters out of the extras I've seen in the Narrows scenes and I think some visuals will help. All things to come. Toodles, poodles!


	3. Getting Down To Business

Before the business fair, Lee had Roman escort her to the Flea. 

It was a place she had previously avoided but she knew the time for that was past. She followed her guide down the dusty, creaking steps that would open to the underground cavern that was the ‘mall for street kids’. Lee walked in and marveled briefly at all the activity she saw. Everywhere there were bodies moving to and fro, kids conducting business, going about their lives. Lee moved through them, observing this microcosm of the Narrows. 

There were about fifty people moving about, she observed. Maybe a dozen were older teens, nearing the beginning of their adulthoods. Most, perhaps thirty, were firmly teenagers, ranging from thirteen to seventeen. And lastly, a handful were clearly children under twelve. Her eyes clocked medical concerns: malnourishment, fatigue, and a few instances of violence. She passed a table where clothing was being traded for. The boy making the exchange sported a bruise on his cheek and was missing the pinky of his left hand. She could tell it was a new injury. Elsewhere, a pale dirty-faced girl, maybe fifteen, was patiently braiding the hair of a much younger brown skinned boy who was clean, bright eyed, and looked well-fed. Though their complexions differed, there was a familial similarity in their faces. 

The kids conducted under their own rule, she saw. There was clothing and food to trade for or to buy, as usual. But in one corner, some old couches had been pushed around a battered TV and four teenagers were clustered playing a video game. An aged PS2 was locked in a cage in front of them, to protect from being stolen. Next to the gamers was a table where a boy with white hair sold cheap burner phones, chargers and low cost mp3 players. 

Lee had to contain her surprise that this many kids lived alone and abandoned like this. She recalled learning about Selina Kyle’s history from previous conversations with Jim and Bruce Wayne. How the girl had never known her father and her mother left her to fend for herself at age five. It was mind-blowing to her. How on earth does a five year old child, a girl, no less, survive the streets of Gotham? What does she have to do, how clever would she have to be, to eventually grow into the teenager that would break into her own house and hold her at gunpoint? Lee didn’t know. 

“Hey Doc?” Roman said, noticing her face. “You alright? You getting a little misty over there.” 

She blinked back her quiet distress, swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m alright. It’s just…” She lowered her voice. “This isn’t right.” 

He gave her a sympathetic look and then shrugged. “No one ever said the world was right,” he replied bluntly. “‘Scuse me, Doc,” he said before spotting some friends of his and going over to talk.  
Lee knew she had to do something for these children. Without Roman by her side more of them were openly sizing her up. Some expressions were merely curious, the others vaguely hostile. She didn’t blame them for being suspicious. If there was anyone in Gotham who could be easily taken advantage of and discarded, it would be these kids. 

“Hey Doc!” someone called out. 

Lee turned towards the voice and found what looked like a ten year old girl, blonde hair in two pigtails. She grinned, showing a mouthful of dark teeth. “You looking for hands?” Her voice was a strange croak. 

Lee walked over to where the girl sat atop a table. She was short, too skinny, the tips of her fingers dark and grimy. 

“I’m not,” she answered. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” 

“Last night,” she said proudly. “The donut shop throws out its leftovers by 10 o’clock.” 

Lee didn’t expect the pang that went through her. She swallowed her feelings and managed a light smile. “How about pizza?” she suggested. “Tonight.” She turned to the crowd, watching the interaction, and spoke louder to address them: “Anyone wanting pizza should show up here at 6:00! Tell your friends, no one will be turned away!” 

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Though a few children cheered out for her plan, more were either stoic or clearly skeptical. She expected as much. These were not kids burdened with a lot of hope. It made her want to do more for them. But that would have to come later. 

She left Roman at the Flea and traveled back to Cherry’s alone. She passed a Med Student on patrol but declined their company. She knew she shouldn’t be without protection but she’d worry about appearances later. When she arrived at the bar there were the few usual barflys and a new addition. A familiar looking woman with wavy, auburn hair was seated at the bar, chatting up Roxy and her friend Xan. As Lee approached, the woman spun in her seat and regarded her with one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Welcome home, Your Majesty,” she said sarcastically. 

Lee remembered this woman. She had been the Riddler’s assistant at the Riddle Factory. “Lila,” she recalled her name. “What can I do for you?” 

“Have a drink, pull up a seat. Let’s talk some business.” 

Lee couldn’t help but smile at her bluntness. “I like a woman who gets to the point.” She sat and Roxy fixed her a new drink, going light on the alcohol as per her new dietary instructions. 

“Then let me get to it fast.” She spoke with the short, clipped tones of a natural Narrows accent. She was dressed more casually than the velvet-and-fishnets get-up she’d worn at the Riddle Factory. Now she had on dark blue jeans, a dressy off the shoulder black top and flat shoes. She sipped from her drink, a blood colored concoction, and met Lee’s eyes squarely. “You shut down the Riddle Factory and screwed up the gig I had with the Riddler. The way I see it, you could use a hand with some heavy lifting and I’m in need of a new job. What d’ya say I become your assistant? Keep the appointments and take your messages type deal.”

Lee took her time sipping her drink and let Lila wait before asking, “Why do you want to work for me?” 

“You’re smart. You look like you know what you’re doing. People like you. I don’t know if I do yet but I think a leader people like and want to protect is better than one that people want dead, y’know?” 

She appreciated the other woman’s frankness. And she was going to need help with the Business Fair and keeping everything in order as much as she could. She fixed her with a critical eye. “You work for me, don’t expect a cakewalk. This isn’t gonna be some cushy job where you can just sit on your ass. I’m trying to do something big here.” 

“I got that much, Doc,” Lila answered. “I ain’t lazy. I grew up right here in the Narrows, over on Wood road. I know that if you want anything in this neighborhood, in this city, ya gotta work for it.” 

Lee set down her glass and extended her hand. “Then let’s make it official.” 

Lila grinned and eagerly shook her hand. “Good woman!” 

She ended up drinking with Roxy and Lila in earnest and after a while let the other women ‘pressure’ her into loosening up. The three had a raucous time while the rest of the bar filled with fighters and drinkers. It was the first time Lee found herself relaxing, putting aside her Queen title just for the night and having fun. It had been ages since she’d had a ‘Girls Night’ and she liked the chance to cut loose. She remembered waking up on top of her sheets, Lila falling off the foot of her bed, Roxy curled up in an armchair and smiled at the messiness of it all. 

By the time Monday morning rolled around, she was sobered up and ready for the business fair. They had scarcely opened before they got their first ‘contestants’. 

Lee recognized both from their semi-regular attendance at Cherry’s. Zahra cut a noticeable figure wherever she went. She was an eye-catching Black woman with a shaved head, usually dressed in fur or some other garment that looked like it came off a runway, and a distinctive metallic visor with points like a bat’s ears. Her cousin, Yahya wore the same shining visor but her clothes were leagues more casual and her hair fell in a voluminous cloud down her back. 

Zahra marched in, stroking her fur with a smile stretching her black painted lips. “Good morning, Doc,” she said in her low smoky voice. “I see I’m the first through the door.” 

“Early bird gets the worm,” Lee said. They were sequestered in one of the back offices while the day’s prospects lined up outside by the bar. She wanted to give each person time and privacy to form their thoughts. Lila was at her back, taking notes.

Zahra looked more than ready. “I know exactly what the Narrows needs,” she declared. “The people are starved for entertaining that doesn’t involve watching a man bleed to death. We need a nightclub.” 

Lee folded her hands, leaned forward on her desk. “You think people are going to visit a club in the Narrows?” 

“I _know_ they will,” Zahra said pointedly. “Look, my main gig is as a makeup artist. I do photoshoots and concerts mostly. I have a lot of clients all throughout Gotham and you know what I hear in the halls of the upperclass? They’re _bored_. They got the speakeasy joints in South Village, the brothels in Cobble Hill, easy. But nothing to bring ‘em to the Narrows. I tell you what, rich kids love to slum it. Makes ‘em feel rebellious. I say we invite ‘em down here, give ‘em something to see.”

“Sounds like it could be a liability,” she said after a moment. “We don’t want too many outsiders drifting in and out.” 

“But we need them,” Zahra insisted. “They’ve got the money and we’ve gotta finesse it outta them. You know those Midtown kids will pay $50 for what we charge our neighbors only half. They don’t know no better and all they wanna do is throw around mommy and daddy’s money. I say we let them!” 

“How much do you think you’ll need?” she asked, trying to gauge how costly an endeavor like this would be. 

“I’m still getting numbers,” she said. She produced a battered black and white notebook and opened it, laying it out for Lee to see. There were newspaper clippings of stereo systems for sale. “I know where I can get enough equipment to power the joint for under five grand. Probably another five for liquor to stock the place. Yahya’s ex’s brother runs with the Street Demonz and we have it on good authority that they’ll provide security for discounted admission.”  
Lee was impressed. “This sounds like something that’s been on your mind for a while.” 

“I’ve always wanted to own a club,” Zahra gushed. “When Fish Mooney was on the scene, I tried to get a job with her but she turned me away, said I was too young. Well, I’m older now and Fish is gone. Forget the Sirens Club or the Iceberg Lounge or whatever that hell that place is calling itself now. It’s time for something else.” 

Lee admired the woman’s spirit. She told her if the pricing didn’t get too crazy and Zahra could manage all the aspects of running her new business then Lee would give her the means to open in due time. Zahra gave her a big hug before hurrying out with her cousin in tow. 

Lila escorted them out and brought in the next candidate, an awkward looking bespectacled young man in a sweater vest with a nest of brown curls. Unbidden, Lee was reminded rather forcefully of Ed in his early GCPD days, before he’d strangled Kristen Kringle and turned into a maniac. 

“This one’s Cosmo Krank,” Lila said, reading off a clipboard and popping her gum as she did so. 

“Krank, like Griffin Krank? The Toymaker?” Lee’s gaze narrowed on the skinny youth in front of her.

Cosmo shifted, his discomfort obvious in his nervous movement and inability to meet her gaze. “He was my father,” he muttered. “I don’t know why he wanted you dead but...I’m sorry. I hope I can make up for some of my father’s sins.” 

Lee had learned from Ed that Gordon had gunned Griffin Krank down in the alley outside of Cherry’s. She’d been told he was working alone but she’d never felt so certain in that theory. The assassination was too specific to be some random act of violence committed by a madman. A paid assassin was easier to fathom. 

“What are you offering, Cosmo?” she said, leaned back in her chair. 

“I learned enough from my dad to take over his work. I think I can create something that can aid you.” He looked up at her and the light slanting across his glasses nearly hid his eyes completely from view. “Everyone’s talking about how you have big plans for the Narrows. I think I can be of some service.” His voice hardened. “My father was killed by the police Captain. Even if he wasn’t guilty, it’s still a bad look. I’m alone now and I need to make my way in this world.” 

Lee silently considered this and shook her head slightly. “I can’t use you, Cosmo.” 

His head jerked up surprised. “Why not?” 

“I don’t know that you don’t blame me for your father’s death. I’m the reason he’s gone now.”  
Cosmo Krank scowled at her. “My father made his own choices. I’m not an idiot that’s going to blame everyone else for those choices,” he spat angrily. 

Lee’s eyes narrowed a little. He had a certain spark in him. His little outburst reminded her even more of Edward. 

“More to the point,” she continued. “Your inventions are all toy-themed. Impossibly specific and easy to trace.” 

“I _can_ apply a bit of subterfuge, Doctor,” he said stiffly. “Besides, my skills aren’t strictly limited to toy-making. I’m an engineer. I have experience with soldering, pyrotechnics, aeronautics, and basic wiring. All things a businesswoman like you might make use of.”

He had certainly piqued her interest. “How about computers?” she asked. In a city like Gotham, a skilled hacker could be invaluable. 

“I know some basic coding and I’m learning more every day.” 

Lee considered him. He made excellent points and perhaps he really could be an asset. 

“I’ll keep you on standby, Cosmo. I don’t have use of you yet but I may in the future. In the meantime, why don’t you build something that speaks to those skills of yours? Show me what you’re willing and able to contribute and perhaps I’ll find a place for you.” 

“Very well, Doc,” he said. Lila took down his information and welcomed in the next candidates. 

During the course of that morning, she put the stamp of approval on a makeshift movie theater, a family-run restaurant, a smuggling operation for counterfeit products, two nail salons, and a gambling house. She refused the construction of a Russian Roulette parlor and a brothel. There were still people lined up to deliver their pitches when Roxy dismissed them for the day. Lee had gotten more than enough to work with and keep herself busy. She’d even come up with some tasks to assign to the children of the Flea. As she was learning, all people needed to eat so everyone needed a hustle. She was becoming more and more acclimated to the conditions of the Narrows. She was feeling good. 

That night, Lila jogged back in from locking the front gates. “Hey ladies, come outside for a second.” 

Lee and Roxy followed her out, drinks in hand. She led them around the corner where new graffiti graced the side of Cherry’s. In arching white letters, it read:

‘A UNITED NARROWS IS A STRONG NARROWS.’ 

“Not bad, eh?” Lila said grinning. Roxy took out her phone to snap a picture and Lee smiled, looking up at it. 

_No. Not bad at all._


	4. Fortify

The days following the business fair were a whirlwind of motion and Lee found herself swamped with the day to day running of her little kingdom. 

The business owners she’d approved wasted little time in beginning their plans. Every day Lila was screening calls, giving suggestions, connecting contacts to foster growth. Most of the men of the Narrows were blue collar workers. If a business owner needed a truck to transport debris or a knowledgeable eye to inspect some suspicious wiring, Lila was on the line, making the demand known so the supply would show up. People were happy for the extra work and Lee could see the bond between neighbors strengthening. Though some were still hesitating, they were beginning to see that they could rely on one other.

The street kids of the Narrows made themselves seen as well. She had kept her promise and had over twenty pizza pies sent to the Flea to feed the kids there. The next day they started showing up at Cherry’s, begging her for work so that the spoils would continue. Most of the Narrows’ kids had a litany of petty skills - thievery, pick-pocketing, lock-picking, breaking and entering. The older kids, a little more advanced in their criminality, picked up robbery, hot wiring and bomb making from stuff as simple as Molotov cocktails to mixing reactionary chemicals. All came with their hands out, trying to cozy up to the new Narrows leader. 

Of course Lee would never turn anyone away but she was not about to exploit children and use them in any criminal context. She knew an attitude like that would not be popular among the kids and she’d lose them if she started preaching the importance of school and living a more lawful life. So she had to improvise; keep them busy without breaking the law. That was easy enough to do. With all the new businesses popping up, there was an increase in jobs that the Narrows kids could jump at. Lee coordinated with the new owners to call her if they needed a job done - moving in furniture, tossing out trash, basic maintenance - and she would send some of the kids out on jobs. When they completed the task, they came to her for payment and so the cycle continued. For the kids too weak or too little to offer any physical help, she tasked them with bottle collecting and trash pick-up. She paid them $2 per plastic bottle, $5 for glass and the recycling business started to boom. For those that scoffed at the more legitimate money-making ventures, Lee appointed them her spies. It wasn’t a decision she enjoyed but she couldn’t deny the usefulness of those orphans whose eyes and ears stretched to many areas of Gotham, not just the Narrows. They had, after all, uncovered the nature of Sofia’s relationship with Jim by Ed’s use of the street kids and their innate ability to pick up or listen in on information they shouldn’t be privy to. 

As long as they weren’t risking their lives to get it, Lee was grateful for the information they kept flowing in to her. It wasn’t all useful, a lot of it was gossip, but it was important to know what was going on in the corners of the Narrows that she might have neglected. 

_Did you hear? Sonny Gilzean beat up a new recruit who was trying to skim some of his mushrooms._

_Nah but I know Captain Amara’s looking for a ratcatcher to keep her racing dogs fed._

_Julia Diaz’s daughter Carmen ran off with some girl and mama’s offering a reward for her whereabouts._

Naturally, she spent more time at the Flea. It became regular for her to order food for the lot of them every Friday. She wanted to make sure they had food daily but she couldn’t throw around her money too quickly. Besides, the kids had been feeding themselves for much longer without her help. The weekly meals just helped bolster them. Besides that, she swept through the Narrows’ drugstores and pharmacies and bought up a load of necessities to give out at the Flea: toothbrushes, lotion, shampoo, tampons, underwear, deodorant, anything to keep the kids slightly more hygienic and lower their risks of infection or sickness. It wasn’t much - many still made their beds in alley ways and abandoned buildings - but it was a little respite and a resource nonetheless that she saw many take advantage of so it was working out. 

She began to learn the names and faces of the kids in her neighborhood and they, beginning to trust her in turn, brought her into their world. The Narrows’ was a veritable playground to an orphaned kid who had never known a home besides the streets. Sometimes on late nights, she’d accompany Vincent and the Med Students on their patrols. In the back alleys and projects, she could easily find three or more kids huddled around a garbage can fire. She carried snack foods and traded them to join their circles, sitting for brief chats. The Narrows’ kids saw her as a guest celebrity and entertained her with interesting tales of the streets. Their stories revolved around the gangsters in the city who, like her, had obtained an almost mythical status in their story telling. 

Selina Kyle was a regular topic of storytelling. She had an enormous reputation that’d grown from her days of running with Fish Mooney to her collaboration with Barbara Kean and Tabitha Galavan. Kids traded stories of the wily Cat who could wiggle her way out of any sticky situation. She’d heard how Cat have evaded the police, how she’d snuck into Indian Hill at Arkham Asylum, how she broke into and squatted in highrise penthouses in the elite Gotham neighborhoods. She was a verified legend and she wasn’t even yet sixteen. Lee idly wondered what kind of woman Gotham would make her into, once she was older and showed even more capability than she’d already displayed. 

Other popular figures were Narrows notables Bridget Pike and Ivy Pepper. Cat and Ivy used to always be spotted running the streets together. Now, Ivy’s reputation as a fierce madwoman was well known in the streets where she’d grown up. She was rich and gorgeous and that equaled success in the eyes of the street kids. No one seemed perturbed by Ivy’s peculiar transformation from a scrawny twelve year old to the curvaceous killer that graced the airwaves of Gotham and terrorized its charity events. Stranger things had been done in the city, after all. 

Bridget rounded off the trio. Though she was older, she was no more wiser than the other two. Lee had come to learn how the shy girl whose mother died got saddled with her stepbrothers, beaten down, mistreated, and eventually forced into the family arson business. She heard the tale of how Firefly had single-handedly broken up a human trafficking ring and freed a number of female sex slaves. Her world would eventually burn in her confrontation with the GCPD and she’d be transported and transformed at Indian Hill into the fire-proof avatar of destruction. It didn’t seem to bother them that Firefly had turned her back on her former neighborhood in favor of greener pastures in Penguin’s kingdom. As far as they were concerned, power and freedom meant more than sentimental nonsense like geographical loyalties.

Like most of the Narrows, the culture of the street kids was a harsh one. Fostering generosity here was not an easy task, by any measure. It was a place where the weak were mocked, ignored, or bullied. If you were lucky, a stronger kid may take you under their wing but that was not a guarantee. Everyone lived for themselves with few exceptions. Siblings generally stuck together and the more you had the safer you were on the streets. Girls formed alliances, duos and trios, who watched each other’s backs, pulled off jobs together, and shared information or resources. Boys tended to be more solitary and more inclined to violent crimes like robbery, carjacking, or assault. In order to make money, you had to hustle. Most sniffed for opportunities from the city’s bigger crime bosses, like umbrella boys or companion girls. The more daring attempted to knock over those same bosses. Their economy thrived by the work of criminals, corner boys, sex workers, thieves, and any else that were willing to risk it all for a slice of the pie. It would take a considerable amount of time and effort to change these kids’ mentalities. 

Lee did what she could to help them and kept her distance. Though the desire to house and cloth every kid that needed it was strong, she had to leave them to their devices while trying to alleviate some of the pressures of their lives. It wasn’t enough, not nearly, to her standards, but all things would happen in time. In the mean time, she would try to use their skillset to her advantage. She didn’t have much use for spywork but one request became clear after some time. 

She put it to the kids to bring her information about Ed’s whereabouts. 

Daily, she’d devote at least fifteen minutes to scouring the newspaper for any crime that sounded like it could be attributed to the Riddler. She found nothing. She heard no word. It wasn’t like Ed to be this quiet, not with his pathological love of being seen and acknowledged. She panicked briefly that perhaps he had died, succumbed to his wound? That seemed unlikely. She scanned the obituaries too and saw no mention of her former partner. 

She figured if anyone could find mention of him, it’d be a Narrows kid imbued with their innate sense of resourcefulness. She put a bounty of $300 on any information that led to the location of Edward Nygma and left it up to them. 

Her work kept her moving and busy. On top of checking in with the new business owners, making rounds around the neighborhood, putting work in at the clinic, and settling petty disputes, Lee had her hands full. She put Lila in charge of collections. She would get anywhere from ten to twenty-five percent of all revenue made in the Narrows from the various gang leaders and criminals. They paid their due taxes and Lee stashed the money in an unlikely place - with the antiques dealer, Edwige Joy. The woman had lived in Gotham all her life and was a famed passer-on of old time legends. Lee felt she could trust her. 

Her own money she kept at Cherry’s. From the bank heists, she’d squirrelled away about a million dollars in a silver briefcase that funded much of her endeavors. It surprised her that such a huge sum of money could be packed and transported in such a small container but there it was. Lila served as her accountant, managing a small team of money counters who recorded receipts and tracked debts. 

The Narrows was starting to climb to its feet. The murder rate dropped for the first time in a month. Robbery and assaults, while common, also dropped. Things were slowly starting to fit into place. 

Lee was going over the books with Lila while Roxy served them each a basket of fries. Roxy had decided to start serving food to patrons and had seen a spike in revenue for her efforts. Lila was going over the new figures, trying to see how to divide amongst the bail fund, the back up money, and the new cook, when Zahra and Cosmo Krank entered. 

"Afternoon, Doc," Zahra called cheerfully. "Got a minute to chat?"

Lee raised an eyebrow at the unlikely pair. Zahra was wearing an outrageous purple fur coat and had spray painted a silver stencil into the left side of her shaved head. Cosmo, in contrast, was dressed in his usual dark sweater vest and fingerless gloves.

"Sure. Pull up a stool."

"I've got an invention for you to try," Cosmo declared. "It took a little innovation but I think you'll be intrigued."

Privately, she already was. She looked at Zahra. "And are you a contributor?" She asked. 

"That's right," Zahra affirmed with a smirk. Her metal visor hid her eyes from Lee. She began to unpack a bag she carried with her, unloading a few bottles of nail polish, a small set of tools, and a clear plastic case of 20 acrylic nails. Then she reached out, grabbing Lee's wrist, and bringing her hand up to eye level. She inspected the short nails, painted red, and sucked her teeth. "I'm going to give you a much better manicure than this," she stated and started assembling her buffer to buzz the color off Lee's hands. 

She glanced at Cosmo. "I'm getting a manicure?"

He nodded with a smile, picking up the glass Roxy set in front of him. "Yep. Trust me, you'll like it."

So Lee let Zahra do her work. She didn’t get her nails done professionally unless she were attending an event. And most of her previous jobs had regulations about appearance that didn’t allow for colorful, distracting nails. She watched with idle curiosity as Zahra stripped her of color and started buffing her nails. 

While she worked, Zahra talked excitedly about the state of her club. 

"We already got the electricity hooked up and functioning. The speakers are in place. I’m still waiting on the couches I ordered. The ones I originally wanted were pretty pricey but then I heard that the Chessman had a furniture set snatched from some yupsters and they offered it to me at a discount. It’s not enough yet. The decor’s gotta dazzle. The whole thing’s gotta spark. I’m aiming to have opening night on Halloween. That gives me like eight weeks to pull it all together." 

Lee listened patiently as Zahra rambled. Her skilled hands pushed back her cuticles and started trimming the excess skin. She prepared her nail beds and pulled out her acrylics. They did not look like the plastic she expected. They looked more like glass and were plainly see-through. Zahra started applying the acrylic over Lee’s nail, bonding them together. 

"What colors would you like?" she asked. "I’ll give you an amazing design." 

"Purple and black," Lee answered after a while. "And maybe something a little more conservative? I want to see how it all shapes up." 

The entire process took forty-five minutes. When Zahra had finished, Lee had a new set of stiletto nails, an uncomfortable inch long but beautiful, with the sparkling purple tips blending into the matte black base and creating a galaxy look. Her middle finger had been decorated with a tiny syringe in white nail polish. It was an impressive design. 

"This is really beautiful work," she commented, flicking her fingers experimentally and listening to her nails click together. "But I still don’t see how this is an invention."

Cosmo got up from his seat and approached them. "Those acrylic tips are actually a strengthened polymer. And inside of them is a sample of concentrated etorphine."

Lee’s eyebrows rose. Etorphine was a very powerful sedative. It could not be easily obtained by a civilian. Cosmo saw the question on her face and merely shrugged. “I know people,” he said calmly. “Now, as I was saying, the nails are pierced with a minscule hole essentially turning it into a syringe. I got the idea from Ivy Pepper. Heard she’s got freaky powers and can make you her slave with just a touch. The idea is that you’ll be able to knock someone out with a simple scratch.” 

Lee brought her nails up to eye level, inspecting them, though they appeared perfectly innocent. 

“Will that really work?” she wondered. 

“Well, we have to find out. You have to try it on someone.” 

Lila, who’d been listening with great interest, perked up. “Try it on me.” 

“I don’t know about this,” Lee said hesitantly. 

Lila scoffed and stood. “You’ll do it if your life’s in danger. So I’m gonna come at you.” She started tying her hair up. “You better get ready.” 

Lee recalled the lessons of her fighting sessions with Vincent. In response, she stood and tied her hair back as well. Lila waited until she was done and the two women moved into the center of the bar. The few patrons that were in the place perked up at the promise of a fight. Lee put up her fists, Lila huffed an aggressive breath and charged forward, throwing a right hook. 

Lee expected this and ducked under the swing. She got in Lila’s center of gravity, lowered her shoulder, and shoved the other woman away. Lila stumbled, jostling a table but was quickly back on her feet. She rolled her shoulders, taking a boxer’s stance and swung out with a haymaker. Lee let her instincts guide her and she caught Lila’s arm just before it hit her. She latched onto her wrist and gave a vicious squeeze, feeling her new claws dig into Lila’s flesh. The redhead gasped in pain before her face went slack and she collapsed. Lee opened her arms and caught her before she could hit the floor. The watching audience cheered and wolf whistled. Lee gently fanned Lila’s face and looked up at Cosmo. “I can’t believe that worked!” 

He grinned, big and proud. “Me neither!” 

After refusing payment for her services, Zahra made her exit and Cosmo trailed Lee who lifted up Lila to place her in bed. She knew she had gotten stronger when she was able to lift the other woman with little effort. It was a satisfying feeling. 

Once they’d tucked Lila into sleep, Cosmo approached a new topic. “I have one more invention to show you,” he said and his somber tone got Lee’s attention. He pulled from his bag a small tablet. He tapped in a few directions and opened a video file for Lee to watch. 

It was an aerial view of a neighborhood. It took Lee a few seconds to recognize that part of the Narrows. The flying video roamed the streets and managed to catch sight of two drug deals, one hand-off, one instance of fellatio in a back alley and a pack of kids running around a corner, in pursuit or flight, it was hard to say. She watched for a minute more before asking, “How did you come by this footage?”

“I repurposed one of the toy planes. Kind of like what my dad did to the one that blew up that building but with a camera instead. It’s like a prototype drone. I’m working on making it soundless and camouflaging it.” 

It was an interesting idea to Lee, to be able to see the streets at any given time but she was leery at the same time. It seemed unethical, somehow, to have the entire neighborhood under surveillance without their knowledge, even if she was doing it for their benefit. It seemed like this would become one more thing she would hide for the good of the people. 

“Keep working on it. If we use it at all, it should be an occassional event. Maybe, for some means of defense. But don’t tell anyone you’re working on this.” 

Cosmo, catching her eye, seemed to note her seriousness and nodded in return. “You got it, Doc. So? Think you’ll have use of me, after all?” 

‘Oh, that was never in question,’ she said, smiling. 

Hours later, Lila would wake and go in search of Lee. She was blearily rubbing at her eyes, her auburn hair wild and tussled about her head. It was an extremely endearing look. “You know, I only like to wake up in unfamiliar beds if I’ve had a fun night prior. You skipped a step.”

Lee gently rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll wine and dine you before I knock you out and drag you to my bed.” 

“You better!” she declared, grinning wide. “I’m not some pump and dump girl. You’ll write home to your parents about me!” She gave a cheeky wink and flounced off to attend to some other duty. 

Lee couldn’t help but chuckle and wonder at the surge of affection she felt towards the red headed woman. She was glad she decided to make her part of the fold. 

She was going about her business, treating people at the clinic, when in walked a small, sullen-faced Asian boy, no older than eleven. Lee recognized him quickly; his name was Jayden and he was one of her spies. A quick glance didn’t yield any obvious injuries so Lee reasoned he was only there to talk. 

“What do you have for me?” she asked. 

He looked up and some of his sullenness softened. He wore a sneaky grin now. “I know where the Riddler is,” he said in a singsong voice. 

Lee inhaled quickly then nodded. “I see. Where is he then?”

Jayden merely stared at her with an expectant expression. 

She scoffed lightly, shaking her head a little, but withdrew her wallet all the same. She counted out three hundred dollar bills and held the money up, to show him. 

“Where?” 

“He’s in Arkham.”

“_Arkham_,” she repeated stunned. “How did you come to this information?”

Jayden sighed roughly. “The janitor at the middle school also picks up shifts at Arkham. Since you only told us urchins about it, he didn’t know that it was valuable information. I just asked him about it.”

Lee’s mind was doing a quick race. There hadn’t been the slightest sight of Riddler in weeks. So how did he end up in Arkham? A question for later. She handed over the money and Jayden’s lit up greedily. He even pressed it to his nose to smell it. 

Lee held up another $50, catching the boy’s attention. “How about a little extra to keep this information to yourself? And to keep bringing me useful stuff like that.” 

He nodded excitedly and Lee handed over the other fifty. The boy was near drooling. 

“You know what to do,” she cautioned him. “Don’t go flashing it or it’ll get taken.” 

Jayden gave her indignant look. “They gonna have to kill me before they take this money. That’s a promise.” 

Lee sighed worriedly. “Just please be careful. Okay?” 

He gave a careless salute. “Sure, Doc. Pleasure doing business.” And then he scurried away. 

Lee took a moment for herself before admitting her next patient. She leaned against the wall next to the window and looked out into the grey sky. So it turned out that Ed was not so far from her after all. She was glad her fear that he’d skipped town was disproved. But if he was in Arkham the entire time, since he’d woken from the knife wound…

He could only have gone there voluntarily. 

Lee didn’t know what to make of that. And now that she knew his location, should she seek him out? It didn’t seem like they’d have much to say to one another, all things considered. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, part of her wanted to see him. Hell, she wanted him to see her, all that she’d done. She couldn’t deny that she missed his calm and steady presence. Nor could she deny that her anger at him still burned low and insistent. She was in conflict with herself. 

In the end, she decided to keep her distance. Ed was obviously going through something. It wouldn’t help anyone for her to go poking her nose in. She’d mind her business and keep her focus on the Narrows. That’s what was more important. Or so she tried to make herself believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for an appearance from Penguin and Barbara in the next chapter.


	5. Examine and Explore

Lee was holding court one morning at Cherry’s. The plaintiffs were Amara, captain of the dog racing and Javier who ran the cock fights. The defendant was an eleven year old girl by the name of Noelle. 

The two plaintiffs had brought their case before the Queen of the Narrows. They had decided to become partners in a dual dog fighting / racing circuit. The only problem was it was becoming harder and harder to find and collect strays from the Narrows streets because Noelle was gathering them all in a makeshift pet shelter. The little girl had managed to corral nearly thirty dogs into the little building she had claimed for herself. The plaintiffs complaint was for lost work and wages. Noelle maintained that she had as much right to collect the dogs as anyone else. Before the pair of them decided to run down on the shelter and take the dogs for themselves, Lee had to come up with a peaceful solution. 

She observed the young girl. She was skinny and short, light brown skin and big, green eyes, brown hair falling in curls past her shoulder. She was in the streets a lot but she wasn’t an orphan. She lived with her mother who could often be found passed out somewhere. She mostly fended her herself. Lee knew her from volunteering to do grocery shopping for some of the Narrows’ more elder members. She was facing down the adults of the court with a pugnacious expression. 

"I'm the one who caught them and cares for them," she declared. "Why should I have to give them up?"

Lee fixed her with a patient expression. "I understand you were offered a fair price for the dogs. Twenty-five per head for… How many in your shelter?"

"Thirty," she answered sullenly. "But it's not about the money, Doc. I want to keep them safe. They don't deserve to die in a death fight," she spat towards the plaintiffs. 

Captain Amara rolled her eyes, sucking her teeth loudly. "Kid, what you're doing is messing with my business. I got people to look after and I can't do that if you're trying to play Dr. Doolittle on all the little doggies in the Narrows."

Noelle shrugged stubbornly. "That isn't my problem."

Javier addressed her next. "I think what you're trying to do is a good thing. You remind me of my daughter, you know, she loves animals too. But, mija, you're keeping food out of my daughter's mouth and I can't have that."

Noelle merely pursed her lips together and stared back at them, unyielding. 

Lee released a quiet breath. Then she asked, “You weren’t at the business fair, were you, Noelle?” 

She glared and muttered, “No.” 

“And yet you took it upon yourself to claim a property, one of mine, without asking. That can’t stand. Step forward, young lady.” 

Noelle took two steps forward and raised her chin, trying to appear unafraid but Lee could see how her throat moved to swallow her emotions. She felt sympathy for the girl but she knew she had to be stern. 

“Had you gone the proper channel and come here to ask for a space for your pet shelter, you would have better standing now. As it is, you’re operating without my approval and you’re interrupting the finances of two other well-established trades for an endeavor that is gaining no revenue and only serves yourself. Your reasoning is noble but I cannot put an animal’s life over any person’s in the Narrows. Step back, please.” 

Noelle reclaimed her spot next to Amara and Javier, both of whom were looking quite smug. Meanwhile, the young girl was blinking rapidly to keep her tears from falling. Lee’s heart went out to her but she couldn’t side with her. A leader had to do what made the most sense; they couldn’t always follow their hearts. 

She rose to her feet to project her voice. “My verdict is this: The dogs shall be split. The males given to Javier and the Captain. The females will stay in Noelle’s care. Any puppies born will follow the same model. The dogs are to be turned over by the end of tomorrow and the plaintiffs will pay the aforementioned price of $25 per dog. Miss Noelle will pay ten percent of that to the bail fund here at Cherry’s, to remind her that her obligations must extend outside of her own interests.” She banged her hammer on the table. “Dismissed!” 

The crowd started to shift around. Noelle pushed her way through and marched out quickly. Roxy sashayed her way through the crowd with a pitcher of ice water that she poured into a glass sitting in front of Lee. She took it gratefully and took a sip. Behind her, Lila flipped open her beeping phone. “Go for the Doc,” she said brusquely. A few seconds pause then, “Really now? Okay, I’ll let her know.” She snapped the phone shut. 

“Let me know what?” Lee asked, glancing at the redhead over her shoulder. 

“Someone says there’s a real slick looking car pulling up Main street. Eyes in the sky think it’s Penguin.” 

Her brow furrowed and she felt a spike of annoyance. Last time Penguin sauntered into Cherry’s, he brought with him taunts and threats. She wondered what he’d bring with him this time. “I’m going to need something stronger,” she said to Lila. 

The bartender nodded and went to fetch a real drink. 

She made sure to have her pistol close while Vincent and Lila flanked her on either side. Her new, long nails clicked with impatience and she wondered if she’d get close enough to use them on Penguin. While she wanted to avoid that, she didn’t deny that it’d be a satisfying feeling. 

A few minutes later, she could feel the hush of the crowd as he limped through the doorway, glanced around briefly, found her, and changed directions. He was joined by two hulking guards, unsmiling and obviously armed under their bulging coats. 

He was dressed in a dapper black suit with purple accents in the stripes. His hair was pointed up in its usual mad disarray and he limped along with the aid of a cane Lee was sure had a knife hidden in it. “Well, well,” he said with an oozing smile. “You seem to be looking well, Doc Thompkins.” 

“Penguin,” Lee said in response. Her hammer hung at her waist and she crossed her arms to survey Oswald Cobblepot. “I do hope you’re not coming with the same attitude as last time.” 

“Hardly,” he said with a contemptuous sniff. “I have bigger endeavors than cashing in on your little heists.” 

She smirked, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. _Didn’t think it was so_ little _when you were trying to steal it._

“I’ve got more important things to worry about. Most importantly, I want to know: where is Edward Nygma?” 

Lee took a slow sip of her drink, watching Oswald over the rim of the glass. She let him wait before she lied. “I have no idea.” 

Oswald scoffed. “Don’t waste my time, Lee. You expect me to believe that after the two of you grew so...close?” 

“The only one wasting time here is you, _Oswald_. No one’s seen hide nor hair of Ed in weeks. I can’t tell you where he is because _I don’t know_.”

Oswald’s eyes narrowed. He took two limping steps forward before Vincent stepped forward, a baseball bat gripped in one hand. “That’s as far as you go, bird man,” he said, positioning himself in between Penguin and Lee. 

For his part, Oswald ignored her bodyguard. He only had eyes for her and Lee met his gaze unflinchingly. This was her turf. Penguin could swagger about all he wanted but if she wanted to, she could gun him and his back-up down. 

Though she knew dropping bodies in her bar wouldn’t be a good look, the murderous impulse to take Penguin out for good ached in her. 

His beady little eyes were darting and when he spoke, his tone was low and smug. “You finally tossed him aside, didn’t you?” 

_He left_ me_!_ She wanted to shout at him. But she’d never give him the satisfaction of that knowledge. Instead, she raised her chin and looked down her nose at him. “You’re gonna act like there’s something wrong with betrayal?” she asked him, raising an eyebrow. “Word on the street is you put Butch Gilzean six feet under after spending all that effort to get him back to normal. So don’t limp in here trying to be self-righteous.” 

A smile spread on Oswald’s face. “Well! I see you’ve got your ear to the pavement. You’ve certainly adapted to your new role, _Doc_.” He took a moment to glance around and casually mentioned, “I wonder how James Gordon feels about that.”

That murderous urge welled in her again. Sometimes she felt she couldn’t take two steps without people wondering about Jim goddamn Gordon’s thoughts on the matter. “I’m not Jim Gordon’s problem,” she snapped. 

Oswald gave her a knowing look. “Oh, Lee. I’m supposed to believe he’s not still holding a torch for his ex-fiance?” Shocked gasps rippled through the crowd and Lee closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath. Penguin, noticing the reaction, merely smiled. “Oh, did you all like that?” he asked the listening crowd. “How’d you like to hear how her cop ex-fiance gunned down her virus-infected husband on their wedding day?” 

At the mention of Mario, Lee went into motion. She took deliberate strides towards Oswald who straightened up and looked her in the face with a sour expression, one hand curled tight around the head of his cane. His men behind him had their hands on their guns and all throughout the bar, she could feel the tension, the kind that snapped right before unleashing a wave of violence. They looked into each other’s eyes with the challenge that neither would back down from. 

“Stupid!” 

Someone shouted and broke the tension. 

Behind Penguin, Lee could see the culprit: Roman, next to his brother Alan. But by the time Penguin whirled around, the older boy had shoved his brother out of sight. 

“Lame!” 

A few voices in the opposite corner of the place cried out in turn. Lee could see Penguin’s cheeks turning pink from irritation. 

The final cry came voiced by many all around the room: “BIRDBRAIN!” 

Ed's rallying cry. As the crowd broke into jeering laughter, Lee could see the darkening color in Oswald's face. It was both satisfying and worrisome. Historically, he was not a man who took lightly to being mocked; she did not feel the need to antagonize him unnecessarily. Lee raised her hands into the air and the ridicule stopped. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” she said to Penguin, trying to stem the rage she saw under the surface of his expression. “But I can’t tell you where to find the man. If that’s all you wanted, I’m afraid you’ll be leaving here empty-handed.” She tilted her head a little and the heavies in the bar moved in, making it clear that Penguin’s welcome was worn out. 

He nodded, as though to himself, and gave her a tight smile. "Queen of the Narrows," he said, almost thoughtfully and suddenly leaned offensively close. Lee stood her ground but her lip curled in revulsion. "Long may you reign," he said softly and Lee felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She _really_ didn’t like this little man. 

But he left without further incident and the atmosphere in the bar calmed down. The tension was gone but now she felt eyes on her, judging, criticizing. She didn’t care for it so she made her excuses and left Lila in charge of her operations and in her wanderings, aimed for Arkham. 

It wasn’t an unfamiliar place to her since she’d worked there initially on her arrival in Gotham. Still, she felt a chill as she crossed through the wrought-iron gate. This was a place where people were sent to be forgotten. 

She crossed through the front entrance and presented her I.D. She didn’t recognize the orderly that checked her in but that didn’t surprise her; turnover rate for Arkham staff was at a high. 

“Who’re you visiting?” the man asked, pen scanning the list of patients. 

"Edward Nygma."

A blonde woman crossing in the background came to a sudden stop and looked over. She wore glasses, a loose black jumpsuit under her white coat and her pale hair was pulled into a low bun. Lee saw her eyes narrow before she walked over. 

“Excuse me,” the young woman said. “But are you Leslie Thompkins?” 

Lee gave her a curious look. “I am. Should I know you?” 

“No, I wouldn’t say so.” She approached her with an extended hand and a smile. “I’m Dr. Harleen Quinzel. I understand you used to work here.” 

She took the offered hand and shook though it bugged her a little that this stranger seemed to know her. "You're well informed, Dr. Quinzel," she commented dryly. 

"I'm sorry," she said with a sheepish smile. "If you have a few minutes, I can explain a little more."

Lee consented to follow Dr. Quinzel who led her to one of the more secluded waiting areas. She took a seat at the aged plastic table and Quinzel started a pot of coffee to brew. She sat at the table and adjusted her glasses before deigning to speak. 

“So, I’ve just recently arrived in Gotham and applied here so I’m the new psychiatric intern.”

Lee smiled lightly. “That sounds a bit familiar.” 

Quinzel nodded with a smile. “The thing is...I’m Edward Nygma’s psychiatrist and he’s my first patient.” 

She _finally_ got Lee’s attention. She sat up straighter immediately. “So, Ed _is_ here.” 

“You had to have known that,” Quinzel pointed out. “Otherwise you would not be here.” A pause then, “How _did_ you know to look here? I was under the impression no one knew his whereabouts.” 

Now, Lee simply tilted her head, carefree. “I’m well informed too.”

“That I see,” Quinzel agreed. “So the matter at hand is this: currently I’m responsible for helping Mr. Nygma to repair his mental health. I don’t think it’s in his best interest to see and speak with you.” 

Lee bristled, startled. That was not what she expected to hear from this girl. She looked like a fresh graduate but she exuded the persona of a more established professional. Lee was equal parts intrigued and irritated. 

“Shouldn’t Ed be the one to decide whether he wants visitors or not?” she asked bluntly. 

“If he were mentally competent yes but until then the staff here will decide what’s best for him.” 

“Edward Nygma has never been mentally incompetent a day in his life,” Lee snapped. 

Dr. Quinzel was silent and Lee was slightly chagrined for her outburst. She took a deep breath and rubbed at her eyes. Quinzel stood up and returned to the coffee pot that had finished brewing. She poured two cups and set one in front of Lee on the table. 

“Edward Nygma admitted himself into our custody in the midst of a psychotic break. I can’t share the details of his condition but he came here for help and now he stays of his own volition.”

Lee listened, subtly clenching her fist under the table. “Is he...Is Ed okay?” 

“With time,” she said. “He will be. I’m confident he will make a recovery.” 

“You sound very certain of that, Doctor.” 

“Well, he’s your friend. Does he seem like the type to let obstacles stay in his way?” 

Despite herself, she smiled thinking of all his past antics, his cleverness. “No. Definitely not.” 

A delicate pause then, “How are _you_, Doctor Thompkins?” 

Lee glanced up sharply, all levity gone. 

Harleen Quinzel’s eyes were both piercing and gentle and she said softly, “You just look a little tired, is all.” 

Lee sighed roughly, dragging a hand across her face. The psychiatrist was right; her sleep schedule continued to be erratic. And, to her annoyance, she felt a yawn coming on. 

“I have a new job that requires late hours,” she said, after politely covering her mouth. 

“Something other than doctoring?” Quinzel asked pointedly. 

Lee gave her a knowing look. If she was Ed’s psychiatrist then he surely would have told her the activities they engaged in. She had to know more than Lee was comfortable with her knowing. So she did what was coming naturally these days. She lied. 

“I’m a community activist for my neighborhood,” she said easily. “It’s taking a lot of care and attention.” 

“I see. Well, activism is a noble pursuit,” Quinzel said. “Do you find the work fulfilling?” Her tone was innocent but her batted, blue eyes hinted at mischief. Lee was still trying to decide if she liked this quirky shrink. 

“I do,” she said with a nod. “It’s nice to give back to the community, nice to see people getting along rather than cutting each other’s throats and stealing from each other.” 

“So what brought you here today?” 

Lee opened her mouth to answer before realizing that Quinzel was beginning to turn that shrink’s eye on _her_. How would she even answer that question? Penguin’s visit had rattled her somewhat and to see Ed would have grounded her and given her the confidence to push on. At least that’s what she hoped. Internally, she cringed at being so needy and silently sipped her awful coffee. 

Quinzel wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily. She persisted in her questions. “What did you want to say to Ed today?” 

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “The last time we saw each other...there was a lot of anger. We didn’t part on good terms.” Subconsciously, she caressed her stomach and the new scar that rested there and sighed softly. She didn’t want to reveal more than she needed to to this woman. “I guess I figured the words would come in the moment.” She looked up at the psychiatrist. "Why do you think it's a bad idea for me to see Ed?" 

She took a patient sip of coffee before answering. "Because all of his focus should be on restructuring his mind. I'm afraid any added stimuli will stress his currently delicate mindframe. I can't give you any more specifics than that."

Lee listened to all this with a grave expression. She leaned forward suddenly, her dark eyes searching Quinzel's face. "Is he in some kind of danger?" she asked quietly. 

Harleen's gaze was sympathetic. "Not presently. As long as he's in here, I hope to curb some of his more self destructive tendencies."

In the back of her mind, an innocuous detail turned sinister: the noose she’d found in his bedroom. She’d assumed it was a prop but now she could not deny the macabre reality. How long had Ed been suffering in silence at her back, her too preoccupied with her new role to wonder at the demons her friend battled. Feeling the beginnings of a migraine, she put one hand over her face, shielding her eyes and tried to swallow her troubled feelings. 

“Dr. Quinzel, you ever feel like trying your best is just making things worse?” 

“I think everyone feels like that, now and again. You may seem ridden with guilt or anxiety but those emotions only speak to how strongly you feel about the issues that plague you.” 

She dropped her hand and stared, a little stunned at the assessment. 

Quinzel smiled. “You needn’t be so hard on yourself. It’s natural to feel pressure when you feel that others are relying on you. From what I’ve been told, you’re a very caring and capable person. You don’t need to let anxiety overtake you.”

Lee was surprised. The doctor had nailed what she was feeling right on the head. And her assessment could have only come from a singular source. The knowledge that Ed was talking about her favorably during his self-imposed incarceration was something of a mood boost. 

She took a deep breath and tried to recenter herself. Penguin’s appearance had rattled her but it wouldn’t break her. 

“Thanks for the tip, Dr.,” she said, rising to her feet. “I should get back to work.”

“You might want to indulge in a day of self care, Dr.,” Quinzel replied. “It will definitely do you some good in the long run.” She smiled indulgently. “The Narrows won’t go to Hell if you turn off your phone for a few hours.” 

Lee avoided her gaze but smiled all the same. “I’ll take that into consideration.” 

She left without talking to Ed but she felt steadied all the same. If there was to be fallout over Penguin’s declarations then she’d deal with it. 

By the time she was nearing the Narrows, her phone was buzzing with a text message from Lila: Urgent. Meet at my place. 

Lee changed directions and headed towards Lila’s apartment. 

She would run into Lila and Roxy on the way there. The two looked casual and at ease. 

“What’s the urgency?” she questioned, approaching them. 

“Oh, that?” Lila waved her hand. “I just said that to get you to come here.” 

She looked at Roxy. “Who’s tending at Cherry’s?” 

“Xan’s working the bar,” she said, raising one finger. “And Vinny's manning the floor,” she added, raising another finger.

“The med students are watching the streets,” Lila continued. “And Krank’s on the phone line. Any emergency call’s gonna come through him but for the next few hours, you are off grid.” 

The two women wound their arms around Lee’s waist and led her into the building. She wanted to protest but it was exactly what Dr. Quinzel had prescribed. She could do with a little bit of relaxation. 

This wasn’t her first time at Lila’s. The front door opened to a kitchenette and beyond that the living room. A hallway down the left of the living room led to the bathroom and two bedrooms. Roxy immediately began to raid the cupboards, Lila walked off to her bedroom, and Lee entered the living room, dropping onto the couch and laying her head back on the cushions. 

Lila returned without her shoes and jacket and joined Lee on the couch. With one hand, she started scrolling through music on her phone, with the other she held out to Lee a vape pen. 

“You’re looking wicked stressed,” Lila said bluntly. “And don’t go all, ‘but I’m a doctor!’ Weed is perfectly medicinal when used in controlled doses.” 

“You know what? I wasn’t even going to argue with you. It’s been a hell of a day and it’s just past noon.” She took the pen and inhaled, pressing down on the button on its length. A cloud of smoke immediately filled her throat. She held for a desperate few seconds before releasing the smoke in a fit of coughing. 

“That’s the way.” Lila shifted around and began rubbing her back. At the same time, rap music started playing over the Bluetooth speaker. 

The last time she’d smoked was probably in high school, being a rebellious teen. Having no experience with it, she was almost immediately high. The worries that had plagued her seemed small and insignificant. She was more concerned if the other women saw music notes in the air as she did. 

Roxy joined them with a bucket of ice cream tucked under one arm, a bottle of pink moscato wine, and a giant bag of potato chips. She quickly scattered the treats across Lila’s glass tabletop and Lee gratefully reached for a spoon. Lila uncapped the wine and poured glasses for them all. 

“To the Narrows,” she said, raising her glass. 

Lee and Roxy followed suit, echoing her toast. “To the Narrows.”

All three upturned their glasses in a single pull. They had, after all, been drinking much harder at Cherry’s. A little wine wasn’t going to do too much too quickly. 

“So, Lee,” Roxy started. “About Penguin…” 

She straightened up, readying herself. “What’s the talk?” 

“After you and Penguin dipped, a couple people were talking sideways. Saying you were too close to the police to ever be real.” 

She rolled her eyes. “And? How’d that shake out?” 

“Lila got all up in their faces. Said we wouldn’t have shit without you, said if they didn’t like it they could give back all the money and stuff they’d gotten since you took over. That got people to shut up.”

Lee looked at Lila. “You did all that?” 

“_’All that’_”, she repeated sarcastically. “What, yell at someone? Yeah, it’s just another day that ends in Y.” 

“It’s still nice,” Lee said, giggling lightly as she took a spoonful of peanut butter ice cream. 

“But what Penguin said,” Lila said, looking at her. Her dark red hair was in a tumble around her face and for some reason, Lee thought of vines. “Was he telling the truth? You were engaged to the captain of the GCPD?” 

She sighed softly. “Yeah, I was. At one point.” 

“And then he later killed your husband on your wedding day?” Roxy asked, her eyebrows pinched together in concern. 

“Yeah,” she replied quietly. 

“That’s some fucked up noise,” Lila spat. She reached for the wine bottle and poured them all another round. “And that bastard’s just walking around fine, living his life. What a crock of shit.” 

“I don’t like to think of it,” she said honestly and took another hit of the pen. The fog beginning to crowd her brain took off some of the edge she felt. “Are you mad I lied to you?” 

Lila rolled her eyes. “Fuck no! Just because you’re our leader doesn’t mean you gotta give up all the details of your life. Shit, if that guy was in my past, I’d keep quiet about it too. He looks like he’s clenched so hard he’s ready to poop a pearl.” 

Roxy choked on the wine she was sipping and Lee burst out laughing. 

"You wanna know the most annoying thing?" she asked, after calming down and taking another mouthful of wine. "I swear I can't breathe without someone asking _'well, what does Jim think of that?'_ Like I'm painted with this brush to be his 'little woman'. It makes me freaking sick."

"Didn't that guy also bone Barbara Kean?" Roxy asked, digging her spoon into the ice cream. 

_"Yes!"_ Lee declared, pointing at her. "And Sofia Falcone, my sister-in-law. Imagine if your ex was the captain of a police force but also can't seem to stop plugging criminals, in and out of the bedroom."

"Oh my God!" Lila covered her mouth. "Wait a minute!" She fell tense and silent, visibly thinking hard, and the other women gave her their full attention. "You said your sister-in-law was Sofia Falcone. That means that your husband was her brother. And Gordon killed him and then _bagged dude's sister?_ Am I reading that right?"

"You are," Lee said, making a face. "Welcome to the wildness that is my life." 

"No wonder you'd rather keep it to yourself," Lila commented, waving her hand. She nabbed the pen from Lee and took a quick hit. “And fuck Penguin for spewing your business and trying to get people to turn on you. He’s such a smarmy little prick.”

“I got one for you,” Roxy said, reaching for the vape. “You wanna hear how I lost my rent controlled apartment because I let some dick lay up with me and he turned our apartment into a trap house?” 

So the day progressed with the ladies trading horror stories about various exes. It was all so _normal_, it was nearly surreal. She could barely remember the last time she’d shared company with a female friend. Well, it would have to be Kristen, before she was killed. Before the craziness with Mario and the virus, Ed and the Narrows, Jim and the bombs, when her life had been a little simpler. She certainly never expected to end up a gangster, a criminal, a person prone to day drinking but life was a funny thing. She sprawled amongst her friends, high and dizzy drunk, and decided it wasn’t such a bad thing. 

Some hours later, Roxy had it in mind to make brownies but Lila’s fridge was devoid of both milk and eggs. So, ignoring the protests of the other two, Roxy tottered off to the store to get baking materials. When she left, Lee was sitting comfortably on the couch with Lila’s head in her lap and was idly running her fingers through the auburn strands. 

“This must take hours to dry,” she commented, running through the silky waves. 

“You’re one to talk,” Lila shot back. “You’re the one with waist length hair.” She grabbed a lock of Lee’s long hair and pressed it above her upper lip, feigning a mustache.

“This is the longest it’s ever been,” she replied. “I used to have it shoulder-length or shorter.”

“You’re probably really sexy with a bob,” Lila said innocently. “Well, you’re sexy whatever way.” 

“Thanks,” Lee said with a grin, looking down affectionately at her friend.

“Can I ask you something?” 

Lee felt a sense of dread but said, “Go ahead.”

“Did you and Riddler ever get together?”

She blinked, surprised. “Why do you ask?” 

“Well,” she said. “I was on the stage that night you shut down the Riddle Factory. I don’t know if you know this but you and him were giving off major sex vibes.”

Lee rolled her eyes, chuckling. “What the hell are ‘sex vibes’?” 

“Like really intense eye contact and getting in each other’s space and all. It was some serious hardcore lowkey flirting.”

She shook her head. “To answer your question, we never had sex.” She paused then, “But that’s only because there wasn’t much time. Between robbing banks and securing the neighborhood and foiling a bomb plot, the physical stuff got kind of left behind. Sadly. And now he’s gone and the responsibility for the Narrows falls to me. He never wanted it. I know he only helped because of me and I took advantage of that but now the responsibility is all on my shoulders and I can’t let it drop.” 

Lila sat up and looked at Lee seriously, her head tilted. “You know, you don’t gotta carry it all yourself.” She gently flicked a strand of Lee’s hair over her shoulder. “The people like you and we’re loyal. You gotta rely on us a little more too.” She reached out and gently pressed into Lee’s cheek to turn her face around. “And one more thing,” she added. Her eyes were a lovely light brown, Lee noticed. “Sounds like men like Gordon and Riddler have been a bust. But that doesn’t mean you have to be alone.” 

Lee blinked, trying to focus through her shuffled thoughts. “Is that a proposition?” 

Lila smiled, avoiding her eyes. “Perhaps. Is that a rejection?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Lee said quickly. Lila lightly stroked her neck and Lee couldn’t deny it felt good. She had avoided being overly physical since Mario. A few kisses from Riddler hadn’t been enough to sate the part of herself that she steadfastly ignored. But here, with Lila, she felt a familiar ache. “I’ve just never been with a woman. Beyond making out with sorority girls in college.” 

“You like sorority girls! Now, that’s the biggest surprise of the night.” 

“And,” Lee continued, ignoring her own snickering. “We work together. Could be messy.” 

“Now, you see, that won’t happen because I’m very good at keeping work and personal life separate. What d’ya call that, compartmentalizing!” 

Lee smiled at her silliness but still she hesitated. “I don’t know…” 

Lila’s caressing grew more insistent. “Up to you,” she said, her voice low. “But I warn you, you’re missing out.” 

Lee thought about it and decided she didn’t have much reason to refuse. Since Ed had gone, she’d been quite lonely, staying up into the late night alone. If she could forget some of that loneliness, if only for a single night, she didn’t see why that she should be denied that. 

“Okay,” she said softly, breathless. 

Lila smiled, leaned forward and kissed her sweetly. 

She was stunned at how much she missed the intimacy of kissing another person. Her thoughts traveled to Riddler but she forced herself to focus on Lila here in the present. She was gentle and playful, ocassionally nipping at Lee’s lip and making her giggle. She could not remember the last time she’d had a mindless bedroom romp. It was a missed sensation so after a length of experimental making out, Lee didn’t resist when Lila took her hand and led her into the bedroom. 

She let herself be undressed. Warm skin shivered in the cool air and Lila pressed them together to keep the warmth. Lee’s questioning hands used to the hardness of men marveled at Lila’s soft skin, her curves. When her delicate fingers found their way to the core of her, she moaned with delirious delight and pulled the redhead close to her. 

Later that night, she lay awake while Lila rested, drawing circles over her skin, and wondering at this new part of her. And despite the night’s revelry, she still worried about a number of issues. But if she listened to Lila, if she relied more on those around her, then perhaps the pressure on her would be more bearable. It was something to consider. She leaned down and kissed the redhead’s bare shoulder, appreciative for the suggestion. She’d put it into effect soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little abrupt on the ending, sorry, I just really wanted to get this out. I know I said there'd be a Barbara sighting but the pacing got off track and it didn't seem to work in this chapter. I'll try to fit her in somewhere. Meanwhile, you've not seen the last of Penguin and I'm considering how/if I can throw Martin into this mix somewhere. Anyway, thanks for your patience, hope you enjoy and leave a comment. ;)


	6. The Leader's Forces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update after about two months! Without getting into the gritty details of my personal life, my day to day has shifted since Christmas. A new job and living situation has created new limitations. Before, I could comfortably write for a minimum of an hour every day during the week. Now, I'm less able to carve out time which is why this update took so damn long. (That, and I write on the fly without any outline so that just makes this activity that much more difficult.) I'm fairly new on AO3 so I highly doubt there's a crowd of people waiting on updates for me but for those few that are waiting with bated breath, thank you for your patience. And if you ever find yourself wondering if I've abandoned a fic, don't worry, I'll try to make a note if any story is going to experience a significant delay or in danger of abandonment. 
> 
> Okay! We good? On to the story!

Lee awoke the following morning to sunlight streaming into the room, keeping warm the bed she occupied alone. Though she had stayed up late, she felt remarkably well rested. Rolling over onto her stomach, she heard Lila’s voice from the other room, talking on the phone. She hugged a pillow to her front and lounged comfortably until Lila hung up and reemerged in her bedroom. The redhead had her hair pushed back with a headband and wore a kimono style top over black panties. When she saw Lee was awake, she grinned and slid back into bed.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she purred and kissed her cheek lightly. “Sleep well?”  


“Like a log,” she replied, stretching out and Lila danced her fingers down her spine.  


“It’s nearly noon,” Lila stated. “And there’s work to be done.” With her free hand, she scrolled through her phone as she spoke. “Roxy’s bringing in more cash playing five finger filet at Cherry’s. Helps us out because the leader of the Lo-Boyz humbly requests the Doc’s assistance in freeing two of their youngbloods from the GCPD’s bondage. If you were going to appeal to the heads of the gangs to fall in line with you, this would be a good place to start.”  


Lee couldn’t deny that. She needed to convince the gangs to look out for the neighborhood as well as she would in case she was gone, removed or dead. The Narrows was rising up but it could all come crumbling down if she waned in her dedication.  


Still, Lila’s bed was a hard place to leave. She shivered with unexpected delight at the many orgasms she’d been given the night before. Part of her had been starved for touch, whether to give or receive didn’t matter in the whirl of alcohol and weed. Lila had been soft to the touch and intoxicating to the senses. Lee could say without a hint of doubt that she hadn’t felt this good in ages.  


“What if we hung out in bed all day instead and just went out at night like a couple of vampires?” she suggested, peeking up at the redhead from where she’d buried her face in the pillows.  


Lila grinned and sat beside her on the bed, pressing her hand to Lee’s bare back. “Don’t try to tempt me,” she warned. “Or I’ll make sure to send you wobbling into the streets with jelly legs.”  


Lee giggled when she bent down and placed another kiss on her shoulder. “I already showered and there’s food in the kitchen. I’m gonna head out so you can get ready at your own pace. You can borrow some of my clothes if you want.”  


“Mm.” Lee sighed lightly and rolled over. The day had to start whether she wanted it to or not. She rose to a sitting position and stretched out her back. “How ‘bout this,” she started, as she began visualizing how the day would go. “I’ll get the Lo Boyz out of lockup. You go to their leader and wait on me. After that we'll hit up the rest of the gang leaders from there."  


Lila smiled at her. "I like the sound of that 'we'."  


Lee returned the smile but something nagged at her. "About last night…"  


Lila raised one hand to interrupt her. "Hold up, Doc. I know you're about to confess your undying love for me and all but I gotta tell you, I'm one of those emotionally unavailable types so if you're thinking of escaping Gotham for a cozy Italian villa, I must decline." At Lee's incredulous snort, Lila flashed a grin and continued. "But if you want to keep coming here in the cover of darkness to get thoroughly wrecked with my tongue and fingers, I think I'm more than able to accommodate you."  


Lee burst out laughing, using her hands to cover her blushing cheeks. Lila gave her a sweet kiss before departing, saying she’d arrange a ride for her uptown.  


She showered, dressed, and ate quickly before hurrying downstairs to her waiting car. A handful of people had offered their time and vehicles and set up a kind of makeshift ride-sharing that was only available to Narrows residents. The man who drove her uptown was a shopkeeper whose children she’d previously treated for pneumonia. He was more than happy to drive her wherever she wanted to go and steadfastly refused any money she offered him.  


They were uptown in record time. She entered the precinct and lingered at the entrance to the bullpen. It seemed like a calm day, with cops moving to and fro with little urgency. Her eyes trailed to the holding cell towards the back of the precinct. She easily identified the Lo-Boyz she was there to collect and another curious addition - Barbara Kean, chatting with one of her targets and looking entirely at home in a jail cell. 

“Lee.” 

She turned at the calling of her name and faced Harvey Bullock. The sight of the old Irish cop brought an inexplicable smile to her face. “Hey Harvey. Shouldn’t you be at the bottom of a bottle somewhere?”

“Heh, I got a few more good hours in me before I tap out,” he replied as he stepped up to her. “Been awhile since you’ve graced us with your presence. So what brings you to our neck of the woods?” 

“I came to post bail on two men in your custody. Michael Voltaire and Kaliph Adams.” 

Harvey’s eyes narrowed. “The Lo-Boyz? What do you want with a couple of gangsters who couldn’t even avoid a B & E charge?"

"Me, personally? Nothing. But the community wants the young men returned and so here I am."

"So, you're still running the Narrows, eh?"

"I wouldn't say I'm running anything," she gently denied. "Well, besides my clinics. But as a community activist I make myself available to the people in the neighborhood and try to help where I can."

Harvey scoffed lightly as he shrugged. “Hey, it’s pretty obvious to everyone that crime in the Narrows has dropped. I’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially if that horse means less paperwork for me. Hey, Gallagher." Harvey addressed a red-headed cop passing by with coffee in hand. "Get me the bail papers on the two humps we picked up on the B & E, will ya?"

"Sure, Bullock." Officer Gallagher acquiesced but before he left he gave Lee a lingering look that was less than friendly. She gently tapped her nails together to distract her from her anxiety. 

"See that?" 

Lee glanced at Harvey but he was smiling. 

"Ginger cooperation," he said proudly, drawing himself up. "It's endlessly dependable."

Lee faked a squint and leaned forward dramatically. "Was there some ginger under there? It all looks awfully gray from down here." 

Harvey clutched his throat and Lee had to stifle a laugh at his theatrics. "That was savage. Careful or I'll book you on attempted murder."

"Only if you can make the charge stick," she said sweetly, batting her eyes. 

Harvey remained pleasantly consistent and Lee was glad for familiar ground. But, letting her eye wander in the background, she could see that a few cops were watching their interaction with pointed interest. The reason was clear: the last time she'd stepped into the precinct, she was a criminal and under arrest. And here she returned, a neighborhood Boss coming to recollect her subjects. It had to bother some of her former colleagues. Others perhaps saw her with a different kind of interest, the opportunistic kind who saw a new source of income with the right displays of loyalty. She clocked all this with a careful surveyance of the room. 

"Is Jim around?" she asked casually, peering towards the Captain's office. 

"Nah, he's running down a lead on a case."

_Perfect._ “I’m going to chat with the boys,” she said. “Make sure you haven’t roughed them up too much.” 

“They’re good,” Harvey insisted. “And if not, I plead the fifth.” 

Lee snorted lightly and headed over to the holding cell. One of the Lo-Boyz, the one who’d been chatting with Barbara looked and lit up at her approach. “Hey Doc,” he called amiably. “You here to get us out?” 

"That is the plan,” Lee said easily, her eyes sliding over him to Barbara. The blonde boss was watching her with something akin to amusement on her face. “Hope you haven’t been mixing with rough company while you wait.” 

Barbara smirked with her head tilted. “On the contrary,” she said with a tone of mocking innocence. “We’ve been enjoying our time together, haven’t we, Khalil?” 

“It’s Kaliph,” the dreadlocked young man at her side quickly corrected. His fellow, Michael with the shaved head, said nothing, merely watched their interaction out of the corner of his eyes. 

"What’re you in for, Barbara?" Lee asked, her voice low. Barbara stood and began slowly approaching the bars of the cell. 

“Nothing serious,” she said nonchalantly. She was wrapped up in black leather, her blonde hair short and pushed back. “Just a little misunderstanding I’m waiting for my lawyer to straighten out.” She walked to the bars of the cell and glanced down at Lee’s hand, giving a tiny gasp. “That is some manicure you’ve got there,” she complimented. “Long enough to use as lock picks, if you catch my meaning.” 

An interesting idea. She didn’t let that thought show on her face but it was something she might consider practicing. Instead, she sucked her teeth and looked mockingly apologetic. “Unfortunately, they cost a bit of time and money and I’d hate to see all that effort wasted. I’m sure your lawyer will come through real soon though.” 

Barbara’s grin was a rictus. She kept surveying Lee with her piercing gaze. “Rumbles on the wind say Penguin’s pissed at the Narrows for disrespecting him. That true?” 

Her words made the hair on the back of Lee’s neck stand up but she didn’t dare show that to Barbara. Instead, she gave an exaggerated shrug and widened her eyes to look especially clueless. “I couldn’t say. I don’t know what could be bothering him.” 

Barbara’s grin became savage and she straightened up with a new emotion in her eyes. Did Lee detect...admiration? “Maybe you didn’t just get a new haircut,” Barbara conceded, a callback to her earlier jibe in Cherry’s when Lee had blocked her and the other Sirens from abducting Ed. “But watch yourself,” she continued, the joviality leaving her voice and face. “Penguin’s got back up plans for his back up plans.” 

She took Barbara seriously, tucking away the warning for later. “Thanks for the tip,” she said quietly. 

Barbara gave her a blatant up and down look and nodded slowly. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Officer Gallagher returned with the discharge paperwork and set to unlocking the cell’s door. Michael and Kaliph emerged, the latter looking back to Barbara and shooting a grin. “You gonna come visit me when you get out?” he asked teasingly. 

“Only if you become a millionaire overnight,” she replied with a faux-sweet tone. 

“Hey babe, I could be the next Black Bill Gates in the making.” 

Barbara rolled her eyes to the heavens. “I totally see that happening,” she answered sarcastically. 

Lee stifled a grin and quickly dated and signed the document in front of her and she reached into her pocket to remove the money to pay for both of the young men, a total of $1000 split between them. 

Once she’d set down the money and form to be whisked off by the officer, she addressed Michael, the quieter of the pair. “Are you okay?” 

He nodded but didn’t meet her eyes and fidgeted conspicuously. “Just tired,” he answered in a soft voice. “Can’t really sleep in a place like this.” 

“I get it,” she agreed. “A cell is one of the most uncomfortable places to find yourself. But you’ll be home soon.” 

Officer Gallagher returned with her receipt. She turned at his approach and he dropped the paper flat on the table, ignoring her outstretched hand. "Here you go," he said blandly. As he turned away, he muttered under his breath. _"Whore."_

Lee’s blood went cold and she clenched her fists to keep herself in check. Her long nails pressed into her skin, keeping her grounded. "Wanna repeat that?" she quietly demanded, causing the officer to turn around and meet her eyes. He had at least six inches and a hundred pounds on her but she quickly assessed all the ways she could subdue him. Of course, she wouldn’t attack a police officer in a crowded precinct but something in her made her believe she’d vastly enjoy catching the officer in a back alley of the Narrows. 

"You heard what I said," Gallagher said. He made an effort to keep his voice down, his eyes focusing around her to see who else listened in or saw. She fantasized hitting him in the throat, crushing his Adam’s apple, hearing him choke as he struggled to draw breath. 

"Ayo," Michael interjected, stepping up on Lee’s right. "That’s how you talk to a female, man?"

"What you expect from a pig?" Kaliph sneered. "They don’t know shit about manners."

"All I see before me are a couple of brainless hoodrats and a slut calling herself a criminal," he replied bluntly. "You may have been able to slide in the past because of your association with Gordon but that’s over. You don’t have his pole to ride anymore."

Both young men made furious motions forward but Lee held up her hands, firmly pressing into their chests to stop them. She gave Gallagher a frigid smile. "You sound very confident, Officer," she commented gently. She bent down and scrawled on her receipt before she crumbled it up and tossed it into the nearest bin. “I really hope that works out for you,” she said innocently. “Let’s go, guys," she said and pulled on the front of their shirts insistently. She didn’t release them until they’d crossed the threshold of the precinct and emerged into the bright, crisp afternoon. 

"Yo Doc, that asshole was dead outta line," Kaliph complained as they walked to their waiting car. 

"Don’t worry about him," she assured. "He’ll be dealt with in due time. I have bigger concerns."

She was quiet on the ride back to the Narrows. Gallagher’s behavior, while unexpected, hadn’t come as a complete shock. It was bound to bother a few civil servants that she was making her money on the wrong side of the law. Along with dreading retribution from Penguin, now she had to contend with some unhappy cops who might take out their bitterness on some undeserving Narrows residents. She had to be on-guard and prepared for the battles to come. 

They pulled up to the Lo-Boyz base of operations, a huge garage in the south side of the Narrows. The Lo-Boyz’ main product was guns, with a little drug-running on the side. Though they were one of the smaller gangs, their presence in the Narrows was noticeable. When they entered into the Lo-Boyz territory, Kaliph immediately cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "YEEERRRRR!"

There were a handful of Lo-Boyz present, roughly about two dozen. About a third were working on fixing a variety of automobiles, the others were moving about in the background, carrying crates and rotating hand-offs with the synchronized skill born of much practice. The remaining Lo-Boyz were clustered around a round wooden table where they slapped down dominoes and drank hard liquor. Lee spotted Lila in their cluster, cheerfully accepting a refill on her cup. At Kaliph’s call, she looked over and grinned then stood to approach them. 

While the two Boyz jogged off to reunite with their fellows, Lila tottered up. She was moving slower than usual and her goofy grin told Lee she was more than tipsy. 

"Having a good time?" Lee asked, raising one eyebrow. 

Lila swept back her hair and fanned her face, trying to quell the color that had risen in her cheeks. "Splendid," she answered. "Guess what? I ran into the leader of the Chessman, some dude named Jung - or Chung, I forget - and we got to mixing it up, yada yada, long story short: him and the other chessheads are gonna fall in line with you. Didn’t take long, I figure since the Chessmen are kind of a smaller gang, it makes more sense for them to throw their weight in with us. More protection that way."

Lee’s smile was growing with each word and at the end of it all, she could have kissed Lila. She’d save that for when they were alone. "What about here?" she asked, eyes scanning the garage. “Any progress?” 

“Didn’t get that far. Figured you’d have better luck when you showed up with their youngbloods.” 

“Ay, Doc!” 

One of the men who’d been sitting with Lila stood. He was slim, easily six feet, with his hair in neat cornrows and dressed in the typical black leather and spikes that most of the Lo-Boyz wore. This was Ezekiel Warner, called EZ on the streets, and he was the second in command for his gang. He grinned at her, brandishing a bottle of Hennessey. “You and Red gonna drink with us or what?’ 

"I’m on the clock," Lee said as she looped one of her arms through Lila’s and approached the table. "Better make it a small one."

The assembled men gave a chorus of hoots and EZ quickly went about pouring her about two shots of liquor into a red solo cup. She let Lila loose and took it, downed it without thinking. It wasn’t great as far as alcohol went but she wiped her mouth with the back of one sleeve while the Boyz cheered her quickness. She waited until the burn in her throat had settled into her stomach before she asked EZ, "Can I get a word with your partner?"

EZ cocked a thumb over his shoulder, aimed towards the back of the warehouse. Lee turned and looked to where he pointed, to the clear glass that indicated an office room. "Go on up, he’s expecting you."

She left Lila in the company of the Boyz and made her way through the garage. The Lo-Boyz she passed all tipped their hats and cleared the path for her. She reached the back of the garage and climbed the shaking metal steps up to the office and let herself in without knocking. 

The office was orderly, low lit, while soft Carribbean music emitted from a stereo along the right side of the room. At the desk in the middle of the room sat a man who set down his pen and stood at her entrance. 

"Doc Thompkins," he greeted her. "Welcome."

She shut the door behind her and surveyed this man before her. He was even taller than EZ, standing at about 6'4 and broader too with wide shoulders and arms thick with muscle. This man was Desmond O’dair and if not for Roxy, Lee wouldn’t have even known to ask for him. Roxy made it known that, while EZ swaggered around as the face of the Lo-Boyz, Desmond, his partner, was the brains behind the operation. EZ may have handled the day to day running off the gang but large scale decisions had to pass through Desmond before anyone else. 

He was surveying her with a silent look of contemplation before asking, “Care for a drink?” He had a slight accent, some Caribbean undertone. 

The Hennessey was still leaving a bad taste in her mouth. “If you have rum, I’ll take that.” 

Desmond chuckled. “I would be a bad Haitian if I didn’t have any rum on hand.” He moved to his assembled bar to get them both drinks. She watched him as he poured, cautious. He had no reason to harm her but it wouldn’t hurt to be attentive. Once he’d returned and handed her a glass, she politely waited for him to sip first. 

He did so, gritting his teeth when he’d finished then met her eyes. “Thank you,” he said, his deep voice a rumble. “For the release of our young men.” 

“It was no trouble,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink. The rum agreed her with her more than the cognac had. “But I figure if I do you a favor, you may be more inclined to do one for me.” 

One eyebrow arched in response but Desmond’s expression didn’t change much. This close to him she could see the many scars that graced his dark face and hands. His dreadlocked hair was tied back into a low ponytail and he was dressed more casually than the other Lo-Boyz, in pressed black slacks and a crisp blue and white shirt rolled back at the elbows. If he weren’t so physically imposing, he would have looked like a run of the mill accountant.

He moved away from her and pulled back a chair for her then resumed the position he’d had when she entered. He waited until she sat before asking, “What is this favor?” 

She couldn’t read him very easily so she’d be blunt. “I’m sure you know of some of the things I’m trying to do to bolster this neighborhood. It’s no small endeavor and I can’t do it on my own strength alone. The people who live here have to unite with one another in order to improve the status of their lives. The same goes for the gangs. If your turf is in the Narrows then you have an obligation to your neighbors.” 

Desmond listened, impassive, before asking, “What manner of obligation would you suggest?” 

“Nothing that I would consider above or beyond. The Lo-Boyz should not harm or menace any Narrows civilian. They should ensure the safety of the common folk by keeping their disputes away from public eye. No more innocent bystanders hit by stray bullets and the like. And in the case of outside enemies, I need a declaration of loyalty and the assurance that the Lo-Boyz will stand in my corner, in the event of a war.” 

Desmond sipped his drink thoughtfully then set down the glass to meet her eye. “My loyalty must be to the Boyz, first and foremost,” he said formally. “We pay our taxes to you, in exchage for this space and the freedom to conduct business in the Narrows. Now, you’re suggesting civilian wellfare be a higher priority and we are to act as on-call soldiers. Is that the way of it?”

She was rattled a bit by his calm demeanor but she didn’t figure it would be easy. She pressed on. “I have plans for the Narrows, that will benefit all who live here. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask for a few things in return.”

He made a soft noise of agreement then asked, “And in exchange for what you’ve asked, what will we get?” 

“If you’re amenable to my terms then we can talk about perks for the Lo-Boyz. You can expect less taxes, in exchange for more civil-minded work and bigger and better territories to conduct business, if that is your wish.” 

Desmond seemed to grimace lightly. “Doesn’t seem worth it.” 

“Would you want someone to think that while looking at any member of your family?”

The man smiled, though the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I have no blood family to speak of, only the Boyz. I am the last of my line.”

“What happened to them?” she asked, curious. 

“Unimportant,” he said curtly and here, he looked away from her. “But the reason I’m not jumping to stand with you is because I don’t think you will last. I wasn’t born in this city but I’ve become familiar with its movements. Neighborhood bosses get bumped off on the regular. I suspect that may be your fate as well.” 

She kept her temper in check but still she questioned him through gritted teeth. “And what do you base that opinion on?” 

Desmond’s eyes found hers. “You cannot hold onto your power because you’re a good woman.” 

She blinked in confusion. 

He sighed softly, lightly scratching behind one ear before he spoke, his voice low. “You are not the first ‘Doc’ I’ve known. The one from my childhood was a terrifying man with more power, money, and connections than a poor boy like me could even fathom. He was called Papa Doc but his true name was Francois Duvalier and he served as President of Haiti for nearly a decade and a half. I was just a boy when he rose to power but I saw what the man could do. He was initially a rural doctor, before he ran for the presidency on the promises of returning Haiti to greatness, to throw off the shackle put on the people by the French and Spanish colonizers. In truth, he was as much a demon as any of the slavers. He reacted to any threat, real or perceived, with only one act of recourse: violence. It’s said that he tortured many, mutilating them, drowning them in acid, and killed more than 60,000 souls, civilians, political opponents, anyone who dared to speak of him in anything less than favorable tones. When he died, his son Jean-Claude - called Baby Doc - took the throne and the Duvalier dynasty continued. What I’m saying is I know what it takes to gain power and to hold on to it. And I don’t believe you will do what needs to be done.” 

Lee set down her glass, a little harder than necessary, and made sure to look Desmond in his eyes as she spoke. 

“Perhaps, just like Papa Doc, I am not all that I appear. What I’m saying is maybe you should see what I can do before you pass a judgement.” 

He listened with a mild expression and nodded lightly once she’d finished. “Maybe so. I meant no insult, Doc Thompkins. You’re certainly not without your own strength. You’ve gathered the Narrows under the care of your protection but holding fast to it all may prove harder then you can manage.” 

“What, then, would I have to do to show you my commitment to this cause?”

Desmond leaned back, carefully thinking, before he spoke. “What I would like to see is a deeper reach with the police. You’ve tried to keep your operations within the neighborhood, which is fine, but having a number of cops on the payroll is often very helpful. Recruit some with loyalty to you and the Narrows and I may reconsider. Additionally, a new connect in the drug game. The Boyz move coke and we always need more suppliers in and out of Gotham. If you can get those things - along with one final caveat - I will reconsider the Lo-Boyz devotion to you and the rest of the Narrows.” 

Not easy targets but also not impossible. “I’m already working on the cop angle,” she told him confidently. She had tossed her phone number in the trash at the precinct. She could only hope one of the cops who’d been pretending not to watch her would follow up, looking for a possible in with the Queen of the Narrows. She would have to tread lightly so as not to be ensnared by someone looking to get dirt on her. The other caveat would be a little harder; she didn’t actually know any drug dealers personally but it wouldn’t be hard to ask around and get pointed in the right directions. 

“What’s the final requirement?” she asked.

Desmond paused before a faint smile came to his face. “What I want from you is a display of violence. Retribution, taken harshly and publicly. It is the tool of many leaders and I think its application can help you solidify your rule.” 

She gave it careful consideration but she already knew what she’d do. “I accept the terms,” she said, pushing to her feet. She drained the last of her drink and set the glass down before sticking out her hand for him to shake. 

He copied her movements and stood, towering over her. When he shook her hand, his grip was firm. His face though belied a sense of doubt. She didn’t let that discourage her. In fact, she felt fierce with purpose and renewed energy. This was her turf; she’d show them all what she could do. 

Minutes later, she had gathered Lila up and they hit the streets together. The Chessman were with her which was good. She imagined their rivals, the Leopards, might continue to stand apart. They were a little gang dealing mostly in robberies and wanton property damage. She could afford to let them scraggle along for a bit more. She knew she’d have the Street Demonz once she went and sat down with their leader. The Lo Boyz were on the fence until she met Desmond’s requirements. The last group to approach would be the Undead, a decent sized gang that ran drugs, cars, and more. She would seek them out later. Currently, it was stretching into the evening and she was getting hungry. 

They were aiming for Cherry’s when a black Hummer with tinted windows pulled up beside them and slowed to cruising speed. Lee paused, glancing over as the window rolled down to reveal a woman in her late forties with a powdered face, an elaborate hairstyle, and a red-painted smile. 

“Hello there, Doc,” she called out pleasantly. Her voice had the faintest traces of some Eastern European accent, maybe Russian. “Would you care for a lift?” 

This woman’s name was Victoria and she was known to Lee. She had announced herself at the business fair when she proposed the running of a legal brothel. Lee had shot the idea down and now she suspected the woman was going to plead the case further. 

She slowed to a stop and Victoria’s smile widened as she threw open the door and slid over to allow Lee and Lila into the car. The interior was clean with the new-car smell of upholstery heavy in the space. The driver was a man with a shaved head, the same who had accompanied Victoria when she’d first turned up at the business fair. The woman herself was looking content as a well-fed cat. Her pale blonde hair was shaped into perfectly formed victory rolls and she was wrapped in a white mink coat.

“How glad I am to catch you,” she demurred, leaning back in her seat. One hand idly stroked the fur over her shoulder, her rhinestone studded nails twinkling in the light. “I figure if you’re going to be generous on your rounds, I should try and grab a piece.” 

“If it’s the same proposal as last time, my answer would remain the same,” she answered dryly as she shifted to get comfortable. Lila immediately slouched against the door and the car picked up speed and started heading in the direction of Cherry’s. 

“Come now,” Victoria urged, rolling her eyes slightly. “I am seeing a line of people before you, all with their hands stretched out, and yet I am the one turned away when I have a business model and willing girls ready to work?” 

“I gave you my reasoning,” Lee reminded her. 

“Poor rationale,” she shot back, quick and blunt. “Why is it acceptable to fund drug dealers like the Lo-Boyz and murderers like the Street Demonz but a girl who makes her living on her back is a step too far?” 

"It isn't an issue of morality, Victoria, but one of safety. The kidnappers and human traffickers have been rooted out if the Narrows and I don't want to do anything that would invite that element back into this neighborhood."

"A noble intention but with poor execution," she said with a contemptuous sniff. 

Lee gave her a patient smile. "Please. Tell me what you really think," she said with just a touch of sarcasm. 

“I meant no disrespect,” she said, waving one bejeweled hand. “I am merely trying to convey that you’re ignoring an avenue of business that could be very lucrative. I have a dozen girls ready to start earning and build a business. That can only be done with your blessing.” 

“I would prefer to build up the neighborhood so that your girls may find work that is less dangerous and degrading?” 

“Degrading?” Victoria demanded. She scoffed and said simply, “That’s a pretty ideal but not feasible for everyone. One of my ladies is trans. When it comes to ‘less dangerous’ work, she doesn’t have many options. Half of the time she isn’t considered past the interview process. In the rare moments she is able to secure employment, she has to deal with misgendering and harassment. Tell me how a woman with her circumstances can succeed with a vanilla job.”

Lee sighed lightly, rubbing at her eyes.  
Victoria, sensing she had her on the ropes, pressed on further. “I know a space that would be perfect. I can show you the plans I drew up for it. And I invite you to sit and speak with some of my ladies. Perhaps hearing their first hand accounts might persuade you to a decision that directly benefits the women you seek to protect.”

The car slid to a stop in front of Cherry’s. Victoria gave them a plastic smile and let them out of the car. Lee was drained from the demands of the day. She retired to her office and went over some figures for awhile before she packed up for the night and followed Lila home. She was too distracted for anything carnal but she was gratified to fall asleep, comfortable, in the other woman’s embrace.

“Lee.” 

She was gently shaken awake and opened her eyes to Lila’s face, her expression grim. “Wake up. We got trouble.”

She sat up immediately and began wiping at her face, clearing her eyes of sleep. “What’s going on?”

“Got a call from a dude on Walker street. Someone dropped some bodies in the space between two buildings.” 

_Bodies, plural._ “How many?” she wondered perplexed. 

“Three.” 

“Shit,” she said softly. 

“And according to the call, the victims are members of the Undead.” 

“Fuck,” she swore, harsher. “Call him back, tell him to keep people back from the bodies. Let me get changed and we’ll go to the scene.” 

She took fifteen minutes to throw some water on her face, brush her teeth, and tie her hair up and out of the way. She was dressed in chic black with her white coat tossed over it all, with her first aid kit in hand. It was early in the morning and the streets were occupied by people with legitimate jobs heading to work. She cut through them all with singleminded focus. 

Lila directed her onto the appropriate street and she immediately knew where to go by the lone man standing on the sidewalk who waved at the sight of them. As they approached, Lee saw that the man stood in front of a short alley between two apartment buildings. He had moved two trash cans into the entrance of the alley and was blocking the rest of the opening with his body, his back to the alley. 

“Hey Doc,” he said smiling nervously. He was a blocky man, early thirties, sandy blonde hair with a nervous disposition, evidenced by his jittery movements and shallow breathing. “I’d say good morning but…” He looked anxiously over his shoulder and turned away with a shudder. 

She patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Thanks for the call, ah…”

“Jimmy.” 

She resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. Instead, she smiled. “Jimmy. Can you hold here a little longer while I examine the bodies?” 

“Yeah, sure.” His eyes trailed into the darkness behind him again and he turned away quickly, mouth pressed in a firm line. “I never seen a body this close up. It’s creepy as hell.” 

“So it is.” She was already transitioning to doctor mode as she moved past Jimmy, reaching for a pair of latex gloves in her pocket. Her nails punched through them easily enough but as long as her fingers were covered, she’d worry about the rest later. With a penlight in one hand, she knelt at the first body she reached and examined the corpse. 

This body was a man’s, as were the other two further in the alley. First thing she did was take his pulse at the wrist but he was cold and stiff, clearly deceased. She shone her light in his face and her breath hitched slightly as she took in the extent of his injuries. 

The man was young, somewhere in his twenties if she judged by the lack of wrinkles on him. What little skin she could see was turning from light brown to gray and he wore the white skull painted face of an Undead member. His macabre visage was made more ghoulish with the lines of blood that trailed down his face from his many facial wounds. Lee leaned close to examine them, trying to identify their cause. They were small circular pinpricks, looking very much like injection sites but each ‘site’ had two injection marks, about an inch or two apart, much too uniform to have been done by human hands. In fact, she thought, as she shifted the dead man’s head from one side to the other, they looked more like insect bites than needle injections. And on the man’s neck, his likely cause of death, a gaping wound that looked like someone had dug their teeth into him and ripped his flesh away. She swung her light around and spotted something a few feet away, an unidentifiable lump that she suspected was the man’s torn out neck. She ignored her feeling of disgust and moved to the next body, intending to give it the same scrutiny. 

She was shocked, then, when she reached for the second man’s wrist to check his pulse and found his skin warm and decidedly alive. Putting her fingers at his wrist and neck, she found a pulse. She put a hand on his chest and felt his shallow breathing. She looked at his face and found his unblinking eyes focused on _her_. 

Lee leaned over him and asked quietly, “Can you hear me? Blink once for no, twice for yes.” 

He didn’t blink instead his eyes rolled wildly in their sockets. 

“Are you in pain?” she tried again. “Look down for no, up for yes.” 

She watched his eyes go up but still he never blinked. Upon closer inspection, she saw the whites of his eyes were discolored and looked irritated. She reached into her first aid kit and withdrew a small spray bottle of water and she sprayed a gentle mist into each eye. He made no expression of relief but she watched his eyes bounce upwards two times. She quickly looked over the third man and found him in the same type of state. 

She stood up with new energy. She thought she'd just have victims to look over but now she had patients and it was up to her to discover what had happened to them. She walked to her waiting companions. 

To Jimmy she asked, "You live in one of these buildings?" When he nodded, she continued. "I have a clinic a few blocks away and the bodies need to go there. I need you to get some sheets and four or five other men to help in the transport." 

"Sure Doc," he agreed and scurried away to follow her order. 

She turned to Lila. "You squeamish around blood?"

Her assistant shook her head. "No ma'am."

"Then I need you to take pictures. Not just of the bodies but the ground and the walls of the buildings too." 

"On it," she said definitively. She took out her phone and got to work. 

Lee stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed over her chest, and tried to make sense of the crime scene. At first, she thought the three men had gotten into some kind of fight that ended with all three of them dead but after seeing the injuries of the one deceased and the state of the other two, she quickly dismissed that theory. There was a fourth person, someone who dealt this considerable damage before going on their way. Lee didn’t know what kind of person was capable of the things she’d seen but if that person was wandering around the Narrows, it’d be her job to hunt them down. 

Lila finished up and joined her just as Jimmy returned with all the resources she’d asked for. She quickly set the men to bundling up the three victims and preparing them to move. If any of her group noticed the paralyzed state of two of the men, they didn’t comment on it and in a matter of minutes, they were ready to move. Lee took the lead and so they began an odd procession through the Narrows streets. 

It was early morning but there was a healthy amount of people walking the streets and naturally they stopped to stare at the Queen of the Narrows walking with three bodies trailing in her wake. Lila deflected their questions and they arrived at the clinic where the men started laying out the bodies. She pulled Lila aside and gave new orders. 

“Get one of the Med Students to guard where the bodies were found. If I have to go back, I don’t want people stomping across the scene. Send another to help me watch over this place. After that, walk the streets. See if anyone saw anything. I’ve gotta examine these bodies before I try to notify any next of kin.” 

Lila agreed, Lee thanked the men for their assistance and then she got to work. She left the dead man for the moment and focused her attention on the other two. They hadn’t moved at all during their transport and when Lee tried to raise one of their arms for observation, the limb stayed hard and unmoving at the man’s side. Her morbid fascination was growing. This was not simple paralysis but a state of _petrification_ unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was as if the men had been turned to living statues. 

“Only in Gotham,” she said under her breath. 

She began fixing IVs for the men and again, sprayed water into their eyes since they seemed incapable of blinking. After she’d gotten them appropriately hooked up, she took a seat between them and started to question them. 

“Are you aware of your surroundings?”

Both sets of eyes went up, a yes. 

“Did you see who did this to you?” 

The eyes went down, no. 

“Can you feel this?” She moved her hands out of their sight lines and gripped each man’s leg in a firm hold. 

Their eyes went down, another no. 

“Are you hungry? Do you have to use the bathroom?” 

A third no. 

Lee sighed quietly. She was initially going to check them for spinal injuries, hoping that would explain their stillness but now that did not seem likely. She didn’t have near enough equipment to diagnose such a complex medical mystery. Nothing to be done for it; she had to work with what she had. 

She started by rifling through the pockets of the petrified men and produced their wallets, cell phones, and keys. She went hunting for their IDs and was finally able to put names to the two still men - Oscar Perez and Alejandro Lopez. She’d take the time to go through their phones at a later time. For now, she wet some cloth strips and placed them over their eyes, hopeful to alleviate some of the pain of endless staring. 

Then she focused on the dead one of the trio. She went through his pockets and found his identification and learned his information - Diego Diaz from...Metropolis? What was this man doing so far from his home? 

She got him out of his heavy leather jacket and cut his shirt from around him. The only injuries seemed to be the ones he received on his face and neck. She went about the cleaning, methodically wiping away the blood that had dried around the fatal wound. She inspected his arms and hands for defensive wounds and found none. She took new pictures then drew blood, taking enough to fill two vials. She wouldn’t perform an autopsy there but she could at least analyze the young man’s blood, hoping it would provide a clue into the mystery of his death. 

She was deep in her examination when she heard a commotion, someone arguing loudly with Frankie, the Med Student who was stationed outside the clinic. She had stipped off her gloves just as the door burst open. 

A man stood framed. He was tall and broad, dressed in black leather. The left side of his brown face was painted skull white and decorated in the style of the Undead. Behind him, Lee spied a woman, with short shaved hair, her eyes and mouth blacked out to look like a skeleton’s. The man’s gaze slid off her and to the dead man on the table. She stepped back without a word and the large man approached. His big hands rose and hovered, shaking, over the corpse’s face. She saw him swallow thickly and in a low gravelly voice, full of mourning, murmured, “_Mijito, quien te hizo esto?_’’

Lee’s knowledge of Spanish wasn’t extensive but she still knew what he asked. _Who did this to you?_

She stepped behind him. “You’re the leader of the Undead, aren’t you?” she asked. 

With his back to her, he nodded. “Rafael Martinez. This is my nephew Diego. That there is my niece Ramona.” 

Lee gave a nod of acknowledgement towards the woman. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

Ramona crossed her arms and looked away. 

Lee turned back towards Rafael. “Your nephew was attacked some time last night. Him and two other men. Their bodies were found on Walker street. Do you know what he was doing over there last night?” 

Rafael turned around now and faced her. His shoulders were slumped with grief but when his eyes met hers they were clear and focused. “I don’t know. My nephew was visiting from Metropolis. He had only just arrived Wednesday. He was thinking of…” Rafael’s teeth clenched. “He was thinking of moving here.” 

That didn’t clear anything up. A man who’d only arrived in the city days prior couldn’t have had enough time to make an enemy. Perhaps someone had followed him from Metropolis? 

“Did Diego have any enemies?” she asked him. “Someone who would want to do him harm?” 

Rafael’s fists tightened as he lifted his head. “I don’t know, Doc. But I plan to find out.” 

He started towards the door and Lee stepped into his path quickly. “Hold on. I understand you’re angry and you want justice. We can get that without losing our heads.” 

He looked down at her with an annoyed expression but he stayed still for the moment. “What are you suggesting?” 

“Let me examine the bodies and gather evidence. We can search the streets for anyone that may not belong and try to track down the killer. We can do that if we work together.” 

Rafael drew himself up, looking at her with a critical eye. “I’d heard you were ‘campaigning’ around the Narrows, trying to curry favor and gather forces. How fortunate for you something like this falls at your feet.” She ignored the sneering anger in his words and he continued. “You’re free to do as you please. I will lead the Undead in our own search. If you’re able to find any information that leads to the killer, I’ll consider an alliance.” He stepped towards her and Lee met his gaze unflinching. “But if you can’t, if my nephew's killer goes free, then _I_ will challenge you for control of the Narrows. Are you prepared to accept those terms?”

_Yeah right._

She schooled her face into an impassive mask and nodded. “So be it.” 

He gave her a final look of warning before hustling out of the room. Ramona shot a smirk her way before she followed behind her uncle. 

This had definitely become more high stakes then she had expected. Nothing else for her to do but get in it.


	7. Of Monsters and Mayhem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few months since I updated so if you're still reading, I appreciate it. I may be a bit slow with new content but I'm committed to the story and I hope you'll stick with me to the end. Let me know what you think in the comments and take care!

Time was not on her side so she had to act fast.

She left Frankie to guard the clinic until someone else could arrive to tend to her patients. Then she took the blood she’d collected from Diego Diaz and aimed herself uptown. She ended up across the street from the GCPD, deliberating on if she should enter. Her unpleasant encounter with Officer Gallagher the day before made her reluctant to put herself in any type of proximity with the police. However, while she dithered outside, the object of her focus emerged from the precinct and began walking down the block. 

She hurried into motion, bustling across the street seconds before the light change and called out, “Lucius!” 

Lucius Fox paused in his walk and turned, curiosity etched into his face. When he saw who addressed him, he smiled at her. “Lee. How are you?” 

“I’m…” Her first instinct was to lie but with Lucius, she hesitated. “I’ve been better,” she answered honestly. “I’m actually working on something right now and you’re exactly the man I’d like to talk to.” 

“I was just on my way to grab some food. Care to join me?” 

Her stomach chose that moment to growl viciously and she remembered that she started her day with a discovery of bodies and not the breakfast she would have preferred. She was suddenly self conscious of her haphazard clothes and bare face. Lucius was enough of a gentleman not to remark on her bodily function and she moved to his side graciously and took the arm he offered her. They fell into step together and headed around the corner and down the block to a small local diner. Personally, Lee would have preferred a different eatery; this one was frequented by cops too much for her liking. But she chose to keep her discomfort to herself. 

They settled into seats, sitting in a booth across from each other, and the waitress came over with menus and the coffeepot. Lee took an appreciative sip while Lucius ordered his food. After her turn, the waitress recollected the menus and bustled off to the kitchen. 

“So,” Lucius said once they were alone. “What can I help you with, Lee?”

“I need some help with a case,” she said. “There was an incident last night in the Narrows and unfortunately, I don't have enough equipment down there to solve this issue." 

Lucius took a patient sip of coffee, watching her over the rim of the cup. "What manner of incident?" he asked mildly. 

"A man was killed," she said gravely. "Two more were attacked and lie in a state of paralysis." 

Lucius' eyebrows went up. "And I presume you want to avoid involvement by the police which is why you ask for my help." 

"I figured it only fair that you might be amenable," she said coolly. She remembered their last conversation had been less than pleasant. That was when Jim was in pursuit of the Court of Owls and everyone around him was willing to lie and cover for him, locking Lee out and frustrating her to no end. She had directed some of that frustration at Lucius and now hoped the two of them could make up for the past. 

Lucius seemed to remember for he nodded easily. “What can you tell me about the victims?”

She pulled out her phone and immediately pulled up the pictures of the crime scene that Lila had taken and sent to her. "The dead man was savaged." She showed him the picture of Diego's wound, cleaned of blood. "Someone tore out the side of his neck. The teeth marks are unlike anything I've seen before. They don't even look human."

Lucius pulled his glasses from his breast pocket and put them on before taking her phone to examine the picture. She was quiet as he zoomed in and scanned over the image. 

"This certainly is peculiar," Lucius admitted. "Your suspicions are right; a human couldn't have done this." He laid the phone flat on the table and indicated the edges of the fatal wound. "The most an adult male can open their mouth is 74 millimeters. For a woman, it's 70. This wound is nearly 90 millimeters wide. That's about as wide as a standard canine could manage."

"Jesus," she said softly. "So, there's some kind of… creature loose in the Narrows. And I've got to be the one to find it. Just great."

The waitress returned with their food - a BLT for Lucius, a short stack of pancakes for Lee - then bustled off again. Lee cut into her food quickly and moaned softly once she'd bitten into her mouthful. Lucius let her consume a few bites before speaking. "Are you certain you don't want to involve the police? I'd worry for you going up against someone who can do this." 

"I don't have a choice," she confessed. "The victims are members of the Undead gang. Their leader came to me, demanding justice. If I can't deliver, the Undead will take their own justice and innocent people could get hurt."

"That sounds like quite the burden to bear," Lucius observed. 

"Someone must bear," she replied. "Otherwise no one would care. Come on, Lucius, you know how it is. You really think the GCPD is going to get off its ass and find the attacker of a trio of gangbangers? No. Any attack in the Narrows warrants Narrows justice."

Lucius looked like he wanted to argue but he had nothing to stand against her with. "So, was there something else you needed from me?"

"Yes." She withdrew the vials of blood she had taken from Diego Diaz. "These are from the murder victim. If there's anything here in his blood that could explain what was done to him, I need to know about it." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I'd never ask you to do something illegal, Lucius but your fellows at the GCPD might consider it a dick move to lend aid to a criminal like me."

Lucius carefully picked up one of the vials and held it to the light. His face, as he examined it, was carefully impassive. "There is a lot of talk in the station house about you," he said casually. "The popular consensus is that you are the same madwoman who buried Jim Gordon alive and who escaped police custody. There are even rumors that you're in league with the Valeskas since it was during Jerome's 'wake' that you were able to escape the GCPD." 

Well, that certainly was a new one. "And what do you think, Lucius?" she asked. 

“I’ll admit my opinion wasn’t favorable,” he said. “So much went down with Mario, Jim, the virus, I thought you responded to that and went down a dark path. I thought it even more so when I heard you’d partnered with Ed Nygma and you two were robbing banks together.”

Lee gently clicked her nails against her coffee cup while Lucius spoke. He wasn’t altogether wrong. After Mario’s death, she’d left Gotham and isolated herself for weeks on end. Those days were full of tears, drunken stupors, and a host of nightmares. It had taken a lot to pull herself out of that dark mental state but she’d done it. Her return to Gotham, her work in the Narrows, all attempts to atone for the madness that had come before, that which she’d had a hand in. 

“That being said,” Lucius continued. “I’m glad to have been able to speak with you. I see a change in you, in your methodology for sure, but at the core of you, you’re still the same. You still want to help others and that is always a commendable endeavor.” As he spoke, he added milk and sugar to his coffee. “I’m glad that, whatever path you’re on, the pair of you seem committed to getting better and doing right.” 

Lee blinked, momentarily confused. “The pair of us?” 

“You and Ed,” he clarified while he stirred his coffee. “I saw him recently and he seemed to be at something of a crossroads, a bit like you.” 

He didn’t see how she froze up at the mention of the man’s name. “You _saw_ Ed?” she questioned. “Where did you see him? How long ago?” 

Lucius finally registered her urgency. “He was at a jazz bar I frequent. I saw him two nights ago.”

She could only stare, stunned. Was Ed out? Had he broken free of Arkham? And if so - she wondered with just a hint of hurt - why hadn’t he sought her out? 

Lucius noticed her quiet. “He didn’t appear quite like himself,” he said, trying to calm her without knowing the reason for her agitation. 

“In what way?”

“Well, he was dressed rather sloppily in ill-fitting clothes and sneakers. He always struck me as the fussy type, particular when it comes to his clothes.”

“Did he say anything that struck you as odd?”

“Well, not odd per se. When I asked about his change in mood, he said he was seeking help for his mental health because according to him, he’s tired of hurting people he cares about.”

She inhaled sharply and had to clench her fist to keep from reaching for the scar on her belly. So, he’d gone there after waking from their encounter and sequestered himself because... he felt bad at what he’d done. Was he truly remorseful or was it an act? Was he simply biding his time, waiting for her to lower her guard before he collected retribution? 

And if he wasn’t - her heart constricted with this thought - did he love her still?

She sat back and blew an impatient breath, ruffling her bangs. As much as she felt the urge to rush to Arkham and demand answers to her questions, she couldn’t be distracted by Ed Nygma. People were counting on her and she couldn’t set them aside in pursuit of her own interests. 

Lucius was watching her closely. “There hasn’t been any word about Ed in weeks. I assume... something happened between you two?”

“Yes, something happened,” she answered dully, poking listlessly at her pancakes. 

“I can understand if you don’t want to tell me about it. But for what it’s worth, he didn’t seem overly upset. A little downcast for sure but other than that, he appeared in good shape.”

“He did?” she asked, unable to disguise the naked hope in her voice. 

“He did,” Lucius said with a nod. “We only socialized for about an hour but we had a pleasant conversation. Though you didn’t hear that from me.”

She smiled, suddenly feeling uplifted. Despite what had gone down between the two of them, she still cared about his wellbeing. Her talk with Dr. Quinzel plus the discovery of the noose in Cherry’s had worried her more than she had expected. To hear from a trusted source that Ed was okay took a weight off her she hadn’t known she’d been carrying. She resumed eating her late breakfast with renewed energy and purpose. Ed was fine, for the time being, it was she who’d be in danger if she didn’t hustle. 

Lee finished up her meal, thanked Lucius for his time, and set off back downtown to the Narrows. She caught a car that dropped her off at Lila’s building and she let herself in with a key she’d been given. In the silence and solitude of the apartment, she took a deep breath and prepared herself for what was to come. 

First, she took a proper shower, long and hot and let herself enjoy the steam. She got out, wrapped herself in Lila’s fuzzy bathrobe and started going through the woman’s clothes in search of something to wear. She was lucky they were similar in body, though Lila was more top heavy than she. She settled on a long-sleeved red cheetah print blouse, her own black slacks, and her white coat over it all. She applied dark red lipstick and took a hit from the vape pen left on Lila’s vanity dresser. She would have loved to lay down and get in a quick power nap but the shower and meal would have to be enough in the ways of energization. There was too much to be done to rest.

She called up one of the Med Students to accompany her on canvassing the neighborhood and Lolo turned up on the block minutes later. Lolo was small and skinny but her appearance belied a ferocity nurtured on Narrows streets. It was she who’d taught Lee how to grapple, how to use her feminine frame to her advantage, and had bruised up her ribs in the lesson. She walked at Lee’s back, dragging a heavy metal pipe she used as a club behind her, her sharp eyes darting around the streets, on guard. 

She started on the block the bodies were found and hit her stride. Most people were at work but the Narrows was never deserted. She passed a first floor apartment and spied an old woman sitting at the window, patiently knitting. Though the woman offered her food and wished her well, she hadn’t seen anything suspicious on the street the night before. She moved on. 

As she walked, she clocked the presence of the Undead. At first, it was a single skull painted face, passing her on the opposite side of the street. On her way she seemed to pass at least one Undead on every block she traveled.

“Look at these bastards flexin’,” Lolo grumbled. “Tryna make themselves seen.”

Lee had to agree. 

At the end of her canvassing, she hadn’t learned anything new about the attack on the Undead. But this was the Narrows, after all. A long held policy of silence was not something easily broken, even for someone like her. But someone, _someone_ saw something. It may take time but she would root them out. She had to. 

She made way her way to the clinic where the two other Undead lay. They were in a similar state with no change. Lee checked their vitals, made sure their IVs were secure, and left them. She had no idea if their condition would be a permanent status but only time could tell that. 

With little else to do, she considered turning in for the night. She knew she should make an appearance at Cherry’s or check in with a few business owners but she was feeling drained and not in the mood for socializing. She texted Lila to find her location. 

The reply came quickly: _Following a lead. You should head to my place. I’ll join you when I’m done._

Lee was surprised but pleased that Lila had managed to find a lead. Hopefully, it panned out. She returned to the redhead’s apartment and got comfortable on the couch with a rum and coke for companionship and the news on TV for background noise. 

She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she remembered waking up to was Lila coming through the door and setting her bag noisily on the counter. She smiled when she saw her. “Hey, Boss lady.” 

“Heeey,” Lee replied around a yawn. She sat up and stretched, checked the time. It was still early - barely midnight. “Did you find something good?” 

“I’ll tell you in a second.” She quickly stripped off her jacket and strode into the living room. To Lee’s surprise, she bent down and kissed her firmly. She barely could return the affection when Lila straightened, her hands on Lee’s arms. “First, come to bed. I can’t have you running yourself this ragged.” 

“Ah, so you’re saying I look ragged,” Lee pointed out as she stood up from the couch. “Thanks, girlfriend.” 

Lila smirked. “Come on, you.”

She guided Lee into the bedroom and stripped her of her clothes before doing the same and joining her. Lee propped her head up on one hand and watched Lila as she slipped into bed. “So, what’d you find?” 

Lila immediately sat up, giving her announcement proper gravitas. “So, I’m working Cherry’s for information when out of nowhere, I get a text. It’s a link to one of the frozen guy’s Instagram. It shows a video from the night before of our Undead trio pregaming at someone’s house. And they’re talking about the club they’re going to hit up that night, place called Inferno. It’s a douchey little hole in the wall on the border of the Narrows and Cobble Hill.” 

“So somewhere along a night of clubbing, the three were attacked?” 

“Looks like,” Lila said with a shrug. “So, I went to Inferno and flashed the guys’ pictures, trying to see if anyone recognized them. Problem was the staff and bartenders working tonight were not on shift yesterday. They switch around or something. It won’t be ‘til tomorrow we can question someone who may have seen the guys and who they were hanging out with.”

Lee heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s much better than nothing. Thank you for following up.” 

“It’s no problem,” Lila said quickly. She reached out and cupped Lee’s cheek, caressed her softly. “I’m here to help,” she added. 

“You do,” Lee said before turning her head and kissing the other woman’s palm. “More than you know. Want to help me some more?” She smiled and pulled her close. 

Lila took care of her Queen. Between heavy kissing and petting, she slid down Lee’s body to devour the core of her. Lee sighed in contentment and laid back as Lila went to work, giving her exquisite pleasure with an energetic tongue. When she came, she wrapped her fingers in Lila’s long locks and the redhead responded with small bites and kisses to her inner thighs. As they laid together, Lee couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around Lila and pressing their bodies close together, in an effort to steal some of her natural body heat. She fell asleep, tangled in Lila’s embrace with the whisper of faint kisses on her face and giggling in her ears. 

She slept late the next day, waking up around 11 o’clock. She showered and ate with Lila at her leisure before they got a start on their day. She sent Lila to Cherry’s, to keep her ears open for new information. She took the time to visit Cosmo Krank’s toy shop and speak with the young inventor. 

It was her intent to see if he’d captured anything related to the attack with his security drone. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in that area at the right time but she put it to him to patrol above the crime scene and the surrounding blocks for anything suspicious. Other than that, her only lead was to look into the club the trio had visited the night of the attack and hope for something to pan out. For the time being, she’d retreat to Cherry’s and wait for the club to open up. 

The bar was moderately filled with Roxy holding court at a few tables pushed together, playing rounds of five finger fillet. Lee watched the game that involved stabbing a knife in the spaces between one’s spread fingers and figured she’d have some stitching and bandaging to do by the end of it all. She found Lila manning the bar and parked herself in a seat. 

“Any luck?” Lila asked as she started fixing Lee a drink. 

“Nope but that’s to be expected,” she answered. It was a tall order to expect a single drone to effectively surveil the entire neighborhood. “Everything good here?” As she asked, her eyes scanned the bar and answered her question. There were two Undead in the bar; a man and a woman. The man was playing five finger filet at the same table as Roxy and seemed to be excelling at the knife game. His back had been to her when she entered so she hadn’t seen his white painted face until he looked up from his game. The woman was quickly recognized as Ramona, Rafael’s niece. She sat alone, near the back of the bar, with a drink of tequila on the table before her. She caught Lee’s gaze, raised her drink and took a sip. Lee merely nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to the bar to accept the drink Lila slid her way. 

“I see they’re making themselves cozy,” she muttered lowly. 

“Roxy says they’ve been here all morning,” Lila supplied. “The man switched out with another but that woman’s parked herself and shows no signs of moving.” 

Lee’s eyes raked over Ramona who seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. The woman with the skull face simply gulped her drink and bared her teeth in an expression between a grin and a grimace. Lee didn’t like the Undead circling her business. They were notoriously violent and their presence was sure to be felt. 

“You hear any whispering?” she asked. 

“Everyone’s talking about the dead Undead but no one seems to know anything about it really. There’s talk of a power struggle but from the little I’ve heard, people ain’t happy with the Undead kicking up a fuss. The people like you and they don’t want anyone messing with you.” 

That made Lee smile. It was important to be liked, after all. If it came down to a death battle and she lost, she wouldn’t want them cheering at her death like they cheered for Cherry’s. Remembering how Barbara Kean had taken her out without a bit of hesitation put a shiver up her spine. She wouldn’t let herself go out that easy. 

She lingered for another hour before she and Lila prepared to depart. Before they could, however, an unexpected guest showed up. Lucius Fox crossed the threshold, immediately standing out by way of his wardrobe. A few patrons near the entrance sneered and shot him looks of contempt. Lee pushed off from the bar to meet him and signal to the others that he was not to be harassed. 

Lee’s gaze went quickly to a folder that Lucius held in his grasp. “I’m guessing you found something useful?” 

Lucius nodded and led her and Lila to one side of the room, under the metal steps that led to the upper levels. Here, he held up the folder. “The toxicology report on your victim came back. He was poisoned.” 

Lee blinked, confused. “I thought the cause of death was, you know, his throat being ripped out.” 

“Well, that certainly didn’t help matters,” Lucius said with a grimace. “Yes, that was the cause of death but he also suffered a massive anaphylactic shock from an injection of –“ He opened the folder and turned it to her. “Snake venom.” 

Lee took the folder, reading the results for herself, and her confusion only served to grow. Just who, _or what_, was responsible for this? 

“I’m sorry if it’s not what you were hoping for.”

Lee immediately fixed a smile to her face. “No Lucius, you’ve been very helpful. Thank you.” 

“What will you do now?” 

“We have to question some witnesses in a seedy nightclub. Care to join?” 

He chuckled and shook his head. “You seem more than capable. Actually, I think I might hang out here for a little bit.” 

“Oh? This isn’t usually your type of scene.” Lee felt a prickle of paranoia. “Any particular reason?” she asked lightly. _Like reporting back to Jim, maybe?_

“As far as dive bars go, this one has something of a reputation.” He met her eyes. “I figure of all the joints in the city, I might frequent one run by a friend.”

A friend. Lucius seemed to be telling her something without saying the words. He’d been willing to help her after all. And if he could be trusted, he might not run to Jim and tell her all that was going on with the Queen of the Narrows. 

Lee smiled and placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you again, Lucius. If you go to the bar, hand this folder to the bartender for safekeeping. The young woman with the stretched ears and the black and white hair. Tell her I said you drink for free as long as you want.” She gave him an affectionate squeeze before dropping her hand and continuing on her way. Her mind was already turning, trying to utilize Lucius as an asset, but that was an exercise for another day.

The two headed to Inferno to see if they could find out more about the attacked Undead. There was a line outside the club but Lee only had to walk up and flash some cash and she and Lila were let in first. 

The club was interesting. Dark ambiance combined with electric music. The two women made their way to the bar to convene. 

“How will we do this?” Lila asked, raising her voice to be heard over the pulsing bass. 

“We gotta get to asking,” she said simply. She beckoned for the bartender and when he leaned close, she ordered. “Rum and coke. Oh, and one more thing,” she said before he could turn away. “Do you happen to recognize these guys? They came through here two nights ago.” She’d pulled up the Instagram link that showed the guys pregaming and showed it to the bartender. 

He gave it a quick glance then shook his head. “Sorry. Lots of people come through here, you know?” he said before leaving to fetch her drink. 

After they both got their drinks, they split up and started asking around. No one could offer any insight and Lee quickly grew frustrated. She was wondering what her next step would be when Lila came up next to her.

“Any luck?” Lee asked. 

“None but look next to the bar. Am I crazy or is that Zahra?” 

Lee looked in the direction she pointed at the woman she indicated. The woman dressed in a sky blue bodycon dress had the same short and voluptuous frame as Zahra but where their friend kept her head shaved, this woman’s curly mass of hair trailed down her back. Gone was Zahra’s signature bat ears visor but when Lee leaned forward and squinted, she definitely saw a resemblance. 

“Come on,” she said and led the way to the bar. 

As they approached, the woman looked up and her eyes lit up with recognition. It was Zahra, after all. She stood and gave them a brilliant smile. “Doc!” She embraced her briefly and gave her a kiss on the cheek before repeating the process with her companion. “Lila. What are you two doing here?” 

“Could ask you the same,” Lila said as she pulled out a chair to sit. “And why do you look like Diana Ross?” 

Zahra laughed. “I kind of figure myself more of a Lizzo type, you know?” she said before regaining her seat and picked up her drink, a peach colored margarita. She ruffled back her curly hair and leaned forward, her voice lowering. “I’m undercover here,” she said with a smug smile. “I’ve been going to a bunch of different nightclubs trying to get pointers for my own spot when it opens.” 

Lee leaned in close. “Were you here two nights ago?” she asked. 

“Hm, no, I wasn’t,” Zahra said bluntly. “But the guy I buy weed from works here. His name’s Derek and I’m pretty sure he was working then.” 

“Is he here tonight?” Lee asked, her pulse quickening. 

“Yeah, they got him in the kitchen tonight.” Zahra took a gulp of her drink and stood. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.” 

They followed as Zahra weaved through the crowd, using her hips to bump aside any who didn’t move fast enough to her liking. The trio made it to the kitchen and slipped inside. The harsh fluorescents contrasted the previously darkened interior of the club; Lee had to blink hard to adjust to the new environment bustling with line cooks and busboys. Zahra led the way through the kitchen to a young man chopping drink garnishes. He was Black, in his mid 20’s, and wearing makeup as expertly applied as Zahra’s own. 

“Yo, Derek, what’s popping?” Zahra asked, smiling brightly. 

“Heeey baby,” Derek replied enthusiastically with a high pitched voice. He wrapped Zahra in a hug and then quickly caught sight of Lee and Lila. He blinked rapidly, fake eyelashes fluttering as he faced them. “Can I help y’all?” he asked, just a little rudely. 

“Be nice,” Zahra scolded. “These are my girls. They need to ask you some questions.” 

“Questions?” he repeated, fixing them with a critical eye. “Y’all cops?” 

“Fuck no!” Lila responded, her tone indignant. 

“You know better than to think I’d be chillin’ with 12,” Zahra said with a roll of her eyes. “Take a break and let’s go somewhere quiet, yeah?” 

“Hell yeah,” Derek said, tossing down his knife. “I fucking hate kitchen duty.” He pulled his apron up over his head and threw it aside. “I’ll be back, Pablo,” he called out loudly. “Smoke break.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” the head cook said dismissively, waving his hand. 

Derek led them through the kitchen and out of a service door that led into an alley behind the club. The four of them huddled up and Derek pulled a joint from his pocket, put it to his lips and lit it. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke into the sky before looking at Lee. “So, what’s the news then?” he asked, arching a perfectly drawn eyebrow at her. 

“I need to know if you saw these three guys here two nights ago.” She took out her phone and showed him the video. 

_“Ugh.”_ Derek scoffed and handed the joint over to Zahra. “Yeah, I saw those three _pendejos_. White painted pricks,” he muttered and spat on the ground. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” 

He huffed dramatically before beginning the tale. “So I was working the floor that night, right? So I’m doing my rounds and I saw those three all surrounding some girl. Now, if you ask me, she looked a little too young to be in here but hell, I ain’t the bouncer so that’s not my call to make. But anyway, I see them ‘round her and I can easily tell that she looks uncomfortable as hell. No friends around, nothing, so I go over to make sure everything’s Gucci. Wouldn’t you know it, the pricks take one look at my fabulous self and start in with exactly what you’d expect. _Maricon_ this, faggot that, blah blah fucking blah, I don’t care but the second they start taking some _negrito_ nonsense, I’ve had enough. Like just because I like dick don’t make me no bitch and I told them as much. Now everybody’s getting loud, my manager comes over to calm the shitshow and during the chaos, the little _chiquita_ slips out. I don’t know what happened to her because my manager decides to comp the three _vatos_ for their drinks and I get busted to kitchen duty.” He sucked his teeth loudly. “Swear, I’m surrounded by pricks on all sides. And not the fun kind.” 

Lee listened sympathetically. “Well, I can’t speak about your manager but you won’t have to worry about the _vatos_ anymore. One of them was killed that night and the other two are seriously injured.” 

Derek’s bright eyes went wide. “Oh _word_?” he asked breathlessly. He took the joint from Lila and took a deep pull. “Might not have happened if they weren’t homophobic assholes but oh well.” He shrugged and held out the joint for Lee. 

She took a small drag before passing it back. “Can you describe the girl?” 

Derek shook his head. “Sorry, hunny, but I don’t spend a lot of time checking out women. She was brown-skinned, brown-haired, brown-eyed , typical Puerto Rican girl. Can’t give you much more than that.”

Lee nodded. “Okay. Thanks for the help, Derek. You too, Zahra. I think I know the next thing I have to do.” 

They left Inferno, gifted with new knowledge. Whatever happened to the Undead, it had to happen after they left the club and the mystery girl might know what had gone down. They needed to find her next but the only ones who could identify her were the paralyzed men lying in her clinic. Lee went to bed, satisfied that she’d get to question them in the morning. 

Her plans quickly went awry. 

She woke up around nine in the morning, got dressed, and headed to the clinic to interrogate her suspects. When she got there though, the place was empty save for Frankie who was pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. He stopped in his tracks when Lee stepped up. “Doc.” 

Her eyes scanned the empty room and then landed on him. “Where are they?” she asked, her voice hard. 

“I don’t know, Doc,” he answered, lowering his head. Frankie was short and skinny with pallid skin and a green mohawk that he now brushed back apologetically. “I just got here a couple of minutes before you. I didn’t stay overnight because I didn’t think the stiffs were in any danger. Someone musta took them.” 

“Or,” Lee suggested softly, looking around. “They got up and walked out by their own will.” She raised her eyes to meet Frankie’s. “And where would they go if they could leave?” 

Forty more minutes passed before she could rouse and gather Lolo and Vincent who, along with Frankie, would serve as her escort. And then they drove down to the north end of the Narrows, to Undead territory. 

They were down near the water, the pungent smell drifting to Lee and the Med Students. She’d had Lila send her the address of where she would find Rafael Martinez and she was headed there now. She wanted answers. 

They pulled up and a woman with a baby stood outside the place, the storefront of a bar/restaurant. She bounced the baby at her hip and gave Lee a critical up and down look. 

“Rafael inside?” Lee asked as she faced the woman. 

The woman nodded and stepped aside so Lee and her entourage could enter. 

The restaurant was largely empty, save for a woman behind the bar cleaning glasses, and Rafael sitting at a back table with one of his lieutenants, conversing in low voices. At their approach, the two Undead broke off their conversation with the lieutenant’s hand wandering down to his belt. Rafael stilled him with a quiet word and faced Lee with a polite smile stretching his white skull face. 

_“Hola_, Doc. _Como estas_?”

“I’m doing just fine,” she answered in English. “Mind if I take a seat?” 

“Please do,” Rafael said, sweeping his hand out at the chair across from him. 

Vincent did her the favor of pulling her chair out for her. She sat and crossed her legs, meeting his eyes. Rafael’s smile was calm and irritating. She was finding that the longer she stayed on this case, the shorter her patience was getting. 

_“¿Le gustaría algo de beber?”_ Rafael asked. 

Lee tilted her head slightly. “I’m sorry, my Spanish is very rusty,” she said.

“No worry,” Rafael said. “I asked would you like something to drink.”

“No thank you.”

Rafael turned to his man and spoke quietly. _“Espera en la parte de atrás mientras trato con este ignorante gringa.”_

The man stood up and departed. Carefully, Lee kept her face expressionless but she was more than certain that Rafael had just told his man he intended to ‘deal with the ignorant white girl’. Jokes on him. She had worked in hospitals for more than ten years; she had long ago learned to say ‘how are you’ and ‘where does it hurt’ in ten different languages. Her Spanish _was_ rusty but not to the degree she’d implied and now she knew Rafael was arrogant enough to talk trash right in front of her. 

“So Doc,” Rafael said, slapping his thighs and sitting up straight. “What can I do for you today?” 

“You can produce the two men who were with Diego the night of his death,” she said bluntly, unwilling to draw this out longer than was necessary. “I have some questions for them.” 

Rafael huffed, running a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that. Those men are recovering from serious injuries. As it’s my job to protect them, I’m afraid I’ve barred them from having any visitors.” 

“Did you speak to them about that night?” 

“I did.” 

“And what did they say?” Lee persisted. 

“Oh, you won’t be knowing that. I’ve taken the information and I plan to use it to the fullest degree.” 

Lee kept her temper in check but her tone was biting when she spoke. “I thought you wanted me to find your nephew’s killer.” 

Rafael folded his hands on the table and gave a little shrug. “Truthfully, I’m okay with it going either way. You find Diego’s killer, justice is done. Good ending. You don’t find his killer, I kill you and control the Narrows. Also, a good ending.” 

Behind her the Med Students stirred angrily but Lee only had to raise her hand to still them. She gave a strained, faint smile to Rafael. “You’re very confident you’ll best me in a confrontation.” 

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Senorita Doc,” he said gravely. “And you’re just some woman who fell into the game. Tell me, which odds would you take?” 

“I guess we’ll have to see once the game is done,” she said, forcing a pleasant smile. She stood. “I won’t take up any more of your time. I do have a killer to find after all.” 

Rafael raised his drink to her. “Good luck, Doc. Happy hunting.” 

She was practically vibrating with anger by the time they hit the streets but she managed to keep the worst of it hidden from the Med Students. If Oscar and Alejandro were unavailable to her, the only other possible lead would come from the woman they’d been harassing. But with no way of identifying her, they were searching for a needle in a haystack. 

All the same, she and the Med Students hit the streets of the North Narrows were most of the neighborhood was largely Hispanic. They asked their questions, they made themselves seen but no one readily offered up info. Even though she was Queen of the Narrows, their fear of Rafael was greater. It would take a great deal to shake that fear. 

By nightfall, she returned to Cherry’s, feeling deflated. She was sat up at the bar, asking Roxy for any notable developments when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned to see Lila standing looking satisfied. Behind her was an elderly woman whose hand was clamped around the wrist of a girl with a hoodie pulled down low over her face. Lee shot a hopeful look at Lila and the redhead smirked. 

“You’re gonna want to hear what they have to say,” she said. 

Quickly, Lee pushed off the bar and headed into one of the back offices, leading the three others behind her. No sooner had Lila shut the door when the woman began speaking rapidly in heavily accented English. 

“Doc, I hope you’re gonna follow through on your words because the Undead have got to go! They throw their weight around and sling their drugs at all hours of the night. They got no respect! And they think they can take whatever they want! Just ask her!” she said, pointing at the girl with them who shrunk further, moving away with them. 

“Hang on,” Lee said, holding up her hands. “One thing at a time. Maybe introductions are in order?” 

“I’m Imelda Ramirez and that there is my granddaughter Sylvia.” 

“Okay, Imelda, tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“You want those skull-faced _pendejos_, don’t you?” Imelda’s voice lowered and vibrated with anger. “The ones who think they can do whatever they want? Well, now you have them!” She moved to Sylvia and grabbed her wrist, yanking the girl forward. “Look what they did to my baby,” Imelda said sorrowfully. 

Sylvia hissed and jerked back but doing so made her hood fall and Lee got her first good look at her face. She would have been very pretty were it not for the signs of brutality that marked her face. The skin beneath both her eyes were black with bruises. Her nose was misshapen and clearly broken. Her lower lip was swollen and puffed out. And her cheeks were marred with scratches. Sylvia hurriedly pulled her hood back up while Imelda shook and wailed. 

“Look what those animals did,” she said, shaking her head. “God have mercy.” 

“Stop it, _Abuela_,” Sylvia said through gritted teeth. 

Lee straightened up quickly, trying to take control of the situation. “Lila, why don’t you take Imelda to the bar and get her something to drink? While you wait, I’ll look over Sylvia.” 

_“Gracias,”_ Imelda said with a smile. “You’re a good girl.” She gave Lee an affectionate pinch of the cheek before shuffling off with Lila behind her, trying not to laugh. 

Lee turned her attention to Sylvia who crossed her arms tight over her chest. “I ain’t gonna tell you nothing,” she said harshly. 

She didn’t try to contradict the girl. Instead, she moved to her desk and opened one of the drawers, withdrawing a first aid kit. She went back to Sylvia’s side and laid the kit down, opened it up. “Would you allow me to treat your wounds?” she said softly. 

Sylvia kept silent for a few seconds before she relented with a sigh, dropping her arms. Lee pushed back her hood, freeing her long, curly brown hair. When it framed her face, she looked even more youthful and she couldn’t have been older than sixteen. Lee started by spraying antiseptic onto the girl’s scratched cheeks. As she leaned forward to cover the wounds with bandages, she analyzed their make up: serrated scratches that went vertically with a bumpy texture. If she had to guess, she’d say the girl had her face scraped against a building or the ground. She recalled the scene in the alley; if Sylvia had been there, had witnessed, it was no wonder she was scared. 

Lee turned her attention to the girl’s nose. Touching it gingerly made Sylvia wince and pull away so it was clearly broken. “I can put it back in place,” she said. “Though it’ll hurt a bit.” 

“I can take it,” she said stubbornly and tilted her head back. 

Lee placed her hands accordingly, took hold of the cartilage and snapped it back into place. Sylvia cut off a howl and bent over in pain, panting heavily. 

Lee let her recover before she decided to speak. “Diego Diaz is dead.” 

Sylvia went still. 

“But you already know that, don’t you? You saw him get killed.” 

“I didn’t see anything,” she said and turned away. 

Lee pursued her. “If you didn’t see what happened to him, maybe you can tell me what you were doing in Inferno that night? You’re a bit young to be frequenting nightclubs.” 

Sylvia frowned deeply and shook her head. “I can’t tell you. If I talk about the Undead, they’ll come after me!” 

“Sylvia, I’m not going to let that happen,” she said seriously, trying to catch her eye. “If you tell me what I want to know, I’ll make sure they never hurt anyone else.” 

She gave a ragged breath, running her fingers back through her hair before she spoke again. “I got into the club with a fake. I was having a good time until Diego and his boys showed up. He was being real pushy, wanting me to dance with him and go home with him. When I told him I’m only seventeen that only made him go harder. There was this gay server they were giving a hard time. They started this whole argument with him and when the manager got involved, I just slipped out away from them. I got about a block away before I realized they were following me.” 

“And what happened then?” Lee asked. 

“I started walking faster, hoping they’d just go away. But they chased me and blocked me into that alley. I tried to run and Diego…smashed my face into the wall. Then he pulled my shirt over my head so I couldn’t see anything and started…” She forced out a breath and looked away when she spoke. “He started grabbing my tits. And when I tried to scream, he punched me in the face. It all happened so fast. He had his boys hold me down and I couldn’t see and I couldn’t breathe and he – he –“ She broke down and covered her face as she started to sob. 

Lee gently rubbed her back, making small murmurs of encouragement until she could get her bearings back and begin again. 

“He was between my legs and I heard him reach for his belt. And then the other two suddenly let go of me. I heard them curse and then… I heard them hit the ground, like they’d been shot or something but I didn’t hear a gun. And then Diego got up offa me. I heard him say, ‘what the fuck’ and then he didn’t talk again. I heard something like a growl and like someone choking and then I heard him hit the ground.” 

Lee leaned forward. “Did you see who attacked them?” 

“I – I couldn’t see ‘cause of my shirt but the guy was tall. I could see his outline through the fabric. But that’s it. He didn’t say anything to me. He just turned and walked off. After it was quiet, I pulled my shirt down and they was all dead. I got up and I ran but – but when I got out the alley I saw which way the killer went! He was marching down the block on Ogden Ave. I watched him walk all the way and cut north on Spring St. He was wearing a big, brown hooded jacket, dirty, like, like maybe he was homeless?” 

Lee took in all the information and patted her shoulder encouragingly. “I’m so sorry you went through that, Sylvia.” 

“It’s my fault,” she said quietly, crossing her arms defensively. “My mama always said I should act my age. If I had stayed home and never gone to that stupid club this never would have happened.” 

“Sylvia, you weren’t attacked because you went to a nightclub. You were attacked because three men decided that what they wanted was more important than your consent. You didn’t deserve what happened. And if you had stayed home, they would have just _attacked someone else_.” 

Sylvia bit her lower lip and wiped the tears from her face. “What are you going to do?” she asked quietly. 

“I still have to find the killer,” she replied. But now that she had this perspective of the story, she was not likely to hand over Diego’s killer to Rafael. She’d probably congratulate the guy – after learning how he’d delivered the fatal wounds, of course. 

Lee administered a little more medical care before sending Sylvia and her grandmother home with an ice pack, ointment, and ibuprofen. Then she holed up in her office and got Cosmo Krank on the phone. She ordered him to recheck his surveillance footage of that night and gave him the new cross streets to check out. He quickly found what she was looking for and sent her a grainy screenshot of a rather indistinguishable figure. It wasn’t much to go on but Cosmo promised to spread the word and the picture and see what he could scrounge up. Lee only had to wait. 

The night passed. The following evening, Cosmo reached out with a lead. He told her to go to her clinic where she could hear from someone who could identify the assailant. She rolled up quickly and was surprised to find Amelia Huang in the company of two men, one of which she was administering care for. Her little protégé had her hair pulled back and was diligently winding a bandage around the head of a homeless man who rocked back and forth, muttering under his breath. A red bruise was forming on Amelia’s cheek that Lee noted immediately. 

“What’s going on here?” she wondered as she stepped through the door. 

The homeless man looked up and gave a weary smile. “Hey Doc,” he said tiredly. “How’s it going?” 

“Better than you, I think,” she said, closing the door behind her. Amelia’s patient was a white male in his 20’s with stringy brown hair and a hooked nose. His companion was about twenty years older, Black and blind if his cane and dark glasses was any indication. “What brings you gentlemen in tonight?” 

The Black man laughed. “Those some fine manners you got, Doc. I’m Maurice. That there’s Adam.” 

Her eyes went to Adam. He had sustained a minor head wound and the bandage on the left side of his head was slowly turning red. “How’d you get that injury, Adam?” she asked. 

He shifted uncomfortably and Maurice answered for him. “It was the Undead.”

Her eyes went to him. “You know that for a fact?” 

“I know what those assholes sound like. They’re going around the Narrows, beating on folks, just for the heck of it. They love coming down to the slums and picking off us that live on the streets.” 

Her eyes scanned him head to toe. “You appear fine yourself,” she remarked. 

Maurice gave a rueful grin. “Well, they ain’t animal enough to attack a blind man so I guess I can count myself lucky.” 

Lee turned her attention back to Adam. “Could you recognize the men that attacked you?” 

Adam wrung his hands nervously. “Doc, I don’t want no trouble. I just wanna go back to my spot.” 

She cut her eyes at Amelia. “Were you there?” she asked. 

Amelia looked startled at being addressed but quickly recovered. “No. I…came here to get an ice pack. These two showed up about ten minutes after me.” 

“Who did that to you?” she asked, nodding at the bruise on her face. 

Amelia rolled her eyes and looked away. “Just some dumb girls at the Flea.”

Lee was going to question her further when Maurice interrupted. “You still looking for the person that killed those Undead?” 

“Yes,” she said quickly, hope swelling in her. “Do you know something about that?” 

“Depends,” he said with a sniff, gripping his cane’s handle with both hands. “What are you planning to do to them?” 

“I just want to talk,” she reassured swiftly. “I’ve heard testimony from those involved in the incident. It seems the killer interrupted a rape and saved a young girl from a bad fate. If that’s true, I need to hear it from him.” 

Maurice listened and considered her words. “You’re looking for a her.” 

Lee blinked in surprise. “A woman killed Diego?” 

“She ain’t no ordinary woman,” he said softly. “She showed up in the Narrows about a year or two ago. She’s a weird one but I like her. She’s my friend.” 

“What’s her name?” 

“She never told me so I started calling her Missy on account of she talks with a serious lisp so I went with something easy.” 

“Missy,” she repeated. “Can you tell me where I can find her? I need to know what happened the night Diego Diaz died.”

“We go a lot of places but if she’s laying low, she’ll be in the abandoned building on the corner of Mott and 15th Street.” 

“Oof,” Amelia said softly. When Lee looked at her, she gave her a warning look. “That building’s a crackhouse, Doc,” she said bluntly. “My mom always tells me to stay off that block.” 

“Missy ain’t no junkie,” Maurice said defensively. “She goes there because the others leave her alone. She’s not a bad person.” 

“Well, I’d like to see if that’s true,” Lee said. 

She called Vincent to pick her up and he stopped by the clinic with his car. Before leaving, she slipped Maurice and Adam some money and gave them an address where they could get off the street for the night. She made sure Amelia headed home and then she and Vincent drove into the ghetto. 

As they cruised the streets, Lee saw a number of skull faces dotting the sidewalks. The Undead were out in force, groups of three and four, kicking over trash cans, smashing street signs, and just causing general vandalism. She was annoyed but she didn’t bother interfering with them. Her target was nearly in sight. 

The block was quiet and run down. A few homeless sprawled on the sidewalk outside the building. With Vincent at her back, they climbed the cracked front steps and let themselves in through a sagging and rotted doorframe. They were immediately assaulted by the stench of sweat and feces carried by the handful of people lying about, scattered, around the room. 

“Fucking gross,” Vinny muttered as he made sure his face mask was correctly in place. 

Lee grit her teeth and breathed through her mouth to put up with the stench. They wandered into the abandoned space, among the few junkies that inhabited the place. She came up near one - their gender was impossible to tell - and nudged them with her foot. “Hey,” she called out sternly. “You know where Missy is?” 

The figure unfolded themselves from their pile of rags, revealing a haggard looking man. He blinked up at them blearily and asked, “You got a rock?”

Lee frowned. “No.” 

The man grumbled and turned over, rolling himself back into a tight little ball. 

Behind them, someone gave a wheezing laugh and Vinny aimed his phone’s flashlight in that direction. “Won’t get nothin’ outta that old basehead,” a woman’s reedy voice sounded through the darkness. 

Lee turned in her direction. “Are you Missy?” 

The woman scoffed quietly. “Not me, Miss Thing. Bird you’re looking for is upstairs. Big bitch likes her privacy. Best not to get too close to that one,” the woman said with a laugh that quickly dissolved into a hacking cough. 

Lee beckoned for Vincent and moved away, toward the stairs and her spike-haired bodyguard followed her. They went upstairs, dodging piles of broken glass and various excretions on their way. The second floor was not so different from the first but she felt the curious lack of presence up there.

Vincent donned his brass knuckles and took the lead. They were only four apartments up here and they went about checking them together. The first and second were deserted. Lee left Vincent to check the third while she checked the fourth. There was little else but the scattered detritus of whoever had been squatting in the place. 

Finding nothing, she reemerged and went to the third apartment to collect Vincent. 

She entered into the living room and found Vincent, facing away from her. She was about to call out to him when his stillness struck her as odd. She had a flash of emotion, a gut-clenching feeling, that made her reach for her gun and turn just as some dark shape slithered out of sight in the periphery of her vision. Her gun was up in an instant as she spun around, trying to find the moving figure in the darkness by the light of her cell phone. 

She backed up cautiously until she pressed into Vincent’s still form. “Vinny?” she called lowly and nudged him with her elbow. He didn’t respond or move. She glanced at him quickly and saw him staring ahead, an expression of shock frozen on his face, still as a statue. She heard the rustle of movement and refocused her attention. Something was cutting through the darkness with swift, precise movements, too fast for Lee to track. She kept Vincent at her back, steeled herself, and when that dark shape got too near, she tightened her hold on the gun’s grip and pulled the trigger. 

The assailant emitted a noise, some strange mix of a shriek and a hiss, and stopped in their tracks, crouched on the floor. Lee readjusted her grip, holding the gun with both hands. “Missy!” she called out and the person in front of her flinched and went still.

Missy was dressed in loose, hanging layers that smelled absolutely terrible with an oversized hood pulled down low over her head. Her skin was dark, helping her to blend into the environment she’d chosen to hide in, and her eyes were covered by dark shades, the same kind Maurice wore. Lee had no idea how good her level of vision would be behind those things, but she didn’t want to risk it. 

Lee kept the gun level as she took a small step forward. “Show me your hands,” she commanded. 

Missy’s left hand gripped her right forearm and when she pulled her hand away, Lee smelled the cloying scent of blood. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said softly. “I can patch up that wound for you, if you want.” She paused, hesitant to risk going any nearer to the peculiar woman. 

Missy did not respond. Instead, she straightened her posture and rose to her full height. Lee was awed; her opponent towered over her and even Vincent at well over six feet. Missy slowly lowered her blood covered hand. Lee carefully watched its downward motion, wary of any sudden movements. She could not have predicted the next ninety seconds. 

Without warning, Missy’s hand shot out and slapped the gun out of her grasp. Lee could only gape as it spun out of her reach and utter a perplexed, _“What?”_ for Missy had crossed about three feet of distance _without moving a step_. Her arm had stretched like rubber. But how? 

She couldn’t wonder at that because Missy spun around and was about to make a break for it. Lee broke out of her stunned stupor, with a gasp of, “No, you _don’t!_”, as she forced herself after the much bigger woman. She lashed out and grabbed two fistfuls of Missy’s dirty overcoat and yanked hard, swinging her around, away from the exit. 

Missy responded by twisting her body harshly to break free. Lee tried to pull her close but the tension suddenly went out of the altercation when Missy slipped free of her coat, leaving it limp in Lee’s hands. Lee, anticipating retaliation, threw the jacket up between them just in time for Missy to barrel into it and her. Lee hit the floor with her back and gasped with the pain of it. She was tangled up with Missy and her coat, her vision obstructed by her hair and the wild struggle. She was flailing, trying to fight her way loose when she felt Missy grip her shoulders and force her flat on the ground. She heard a growl and a hiss and when her wild eyes swung up at her attacker, she gasped then let out a scream. 

Her eyes were still covered by her sunglasses but the hood she’d used to obscure her face was gone. Her skin was dark brown but this close up, Lee could see the faint delicate lines that crisscrossed parts of her face, giving her skin a scaley look that gleamed iridescent. Her nose was impossibly slim, nearly nonexistent, so she only looked like she had slits above her mouth. And the cause of her horror rested atop the woman’s head. Instead of hair, a writhing mass of snakes twisted about her skull. Lee could only stare in morbid fascination before she registered the animal-like snarls coming from the woman who battled her. She snapped to attention in time to see Missy open her mouth, _wide_, and Lee got an eyeful of rows of serrated teeth and four very deadly looking viper fangs. She scrambled backwards, fueled by desperation and terror, and shot out her hands when Missy lunged for her. She caught the other woman around the throat, with her lethal mouth merely inches away from Lee’s face. She gave a vicious squeeze, making sure to puncture her with at least eight of her weaponized nails. Almost immediately, Missy sagged, lifeless, and Lee was able to extract herself from her attacker and catch her breath. 

She was thankfully unhurt, just a little sore. She retrieved her fallen cell phone, relieved to see her screen hadn’t cracked, and pointed the light back on Missy. The snakes that curled on the woman’s head seemed to have settled into a slow, calm mass. Missy groaned and Lee flinched when she heard her voice, a low rasp, androgynous in tone, ask: “What have you done to me?” 

She’d expected to knock her unconscious but it seemed apparent that Missy had a higher tolerance to the sedative hidden in her manicure. Lee backed up, making sure to keep Missy in her line of sight, as she searched for her gun amongst the trash and mess. When she found it, she held it firmly in hand but kept it pointed to the ground. “How about we try again?” she said, straining to keep her voice level and calm. She made sure to keep her distance, not knowing how far Missy’s reach extended. “I don’t want to hurt you but if you attack me, I’ll have no choice.” 

The sedative had definitely slowed her; Missy struggled onto her hands and knees and glanced over at Lee. The snakes about her head slithered languorously and Lee twitched, thinking she should look away. Missy seemed to have the same power as the fabled Medusa she was obviously based on but Lee hadn’t frozen both times she looked on the snakes. It had to be her eyes, the ones she kept hidden behind the blind shades. 

“You’re the Doc,” Missy said quietly and Lee blinked in surprise. 

“You know me then?” 

“I know,” she affirmed. “Why have you come here?” 

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said, taking a small, cautious step forward. “The attack on three men a few days ago… I’m told you’re the one responsible.”

“Yessss,” the woman sighed quietly, her word trailing off with a hiss. 

“You did it to protect a girl in danger,” she continued, taking another step. “Why? Tell me why you involved yourself.” 

“That is my duty,” she said solemnly. “I am a goddessss brought low, ssssent here assss a trial. I musssst defend my female followerssss and they will flock to and honor me once more.” 

Lee listened with increasing consternation. She kept a healthy distance though Missy didn’t seem able or inclined to attack her right now. “Who told you all that?” Lee wondered. 

“My father,” she replied. “The Philossssopher.” 

It clicked instantly. “Hugo Strange. You’re from Indian Hill. Did you break out with the others back then?”

Missy nodded. “My firsssst trial. Father ssssaid we were leaving to esssscape hunterssss. We got away but the huntersss purssssued and cut ussss down. Firsssst Waylon, then Jeremy, Alice, Ssssid, Nancy, Marv, and Fissssh. I am the lasssst.” 

Lee moved near her and lowered herself into a kneeling position. “The Indian Hill breakout was nearly two years ago. Have you been alone all that time?” 

Missy nodded silently. “The hunter killed all my friendssss,” she said softly. “I barely essscaped. I knew that Alice had come to the Narrowsssssso I came to hide assss well. I wassss alone for a time then I met Maurice. I didn’t know there were humans whosssse eyessss didn’t work. He cannot look on me and that makesssss him an ideal acolyte. He isss the one who gave me the name Misssssy.” 

“What were you called before that?” Lee asked curiously. 

“Father called me Viper,” she replied. “Once we esssscaped Indian Hill, Fissssh gave me the name I liked most: Dussssa. Sssshe ssssaid that it was closssse to the original name I held as a goddessss. Once I complete my trial, I will regain my old name.” 

She fell quiet again and Lee took a moment to think. She definitely hadn’t anticipated this woman. She’d expected some ghoulish beast, hungering for violence and got instead a strange, deluded creature acting out of fearful defense. She did not seem like a threat and Lee wouldn’t treat her like one. 

“Dusa” she said suddenly, trying out the name she claimed to prefer. “The man you killed - his family is out for your blood. They want to kill you and with enough time, they’ll have their way.” 

She snorted derisively, the sound made eerie by her hiss. “I do not fear mortalssss,” she said quietly. “Let them come.” 

“They won’t just come for you,” she said gravely. “You need to understand my position. I’m supposed to protect the people of the Narrows. If I fail in my duty then someone else will take my place. And not everyone has the people’s best interests in heart as I do. If that happens then scenes like the one you interrupted in that alley will happen more and more.” An exaggeration but Lee needed to find a way to directly appeal to the snake woman. “Your followers will suffer for it. Is it not in your mandate to protect them from suffering?” 

Dusa’s head rose, her snakes went strangely still, and she regarded Lee silently before asking, “What do you mean to do?” 

“I’m working on that. Before anything, we should get out of here. I can clean your wound and find you fresh clothes.” Her mind started working on how to achieve those goals. Her eyes scanned the room and landed on Vincent, still frozen stock still. To Dusa she asked, “Can you unfreeze my friend?” 

She glanced over at Vincent then shrugged. “I can’t. But I only looked at him for a short time. He should reanimate on hissss own in due time.” 

“How much time?” Lee pressed. 

“I don’t know,” Dusa answered placidly. 

She refrained from a frustrated growl. Now was not the time to lose her cool. Most importantly, she had completed her goal and found the culprit. Now it was on her to protect her quarry. She thought carefully on her options then pulled up her phone. 

She dialed Zahra’s number and crossed her fingers the call would be answered. 

“-be careful!” she heard Zahra bark then, “Hey Doc, what’s up?” 

“Zahra, I need your help,” she said directly. “Are you home?” 

“Nah Doc, I’m at the club, overseeing some construction.” A pause as it sounded like she shifted her phone then, “Are you good? Need someone to pick you up?”

"No, that's not it." She bit down on one nail anxiously then said, "I'm on the corner of Mott and 15th. I have an injured patient with me and that I need to treat. You live near here, don’t you? "

"Oh, you tryna get off the streets? You can use my place and I'll come around once my business is done. Go there and I'll tell Roman to let you in."

"Roman James?" she clarified, momentarily confused. "Why would he be in your apartment?"

Zahra chuckled. "The little brother picks up groceries for me when I don't have time to get to the store. He's running his ass all over the Narrows, being our own personal Postmates."

Lee smiled. "Okay, I'll do that. But just know -" Her eyes went to Dusa who was listening with all the focus of a stone statue. “My patient is a bit unusual. I'll need you to keep your cool and keep this to yourself.”

“Oooh, sounds mysterious. I'll send you the building number. Text me when you get in safe.”

“Thanks, Z,” she said and ended the call. 

She looked at Dusa. "We're getting out of here." She indicated Vinny. "Is it safe to leave him here? At least until someone can come get him."

"The onessss below don't come up when they know I'm here. They fear me."

"Well, that can work to our advantage." The next call she made was to Lolo, instructing her to gather Frankie and the other Med Students to come collect Vincent. If they couldn't move him, they'd at least stay with him until Dusa's power wore off. 

She went to where Vincent was frozen and shined a light in his eye. His pupils contracted and she took the time to spray some water into his eyes. "The Students are on the way," she assured him. "Should only be a few minutes. And hopefully, you'll be back to normal soon." She took his phone and opened the YouTube app, found some heavy metal song and set it to play. Then she slipped his phone back into the front pocket of his shirt. Now he'd be easier to find.

She moved to Dusa and held a hand out to help her up. She looked up at her, her expression inscrutable, snakes slithering lazily before she slowly rose to her feet on her own, towering over Lee. As Dusa flexed experimentally, Lee stepped out of her way, and her arm extended to retrieve her jacket from where it landed during their tussle. Lee watched with fascination as the limb extended and then returned to its original length. Dusa threw her jacket around her shoulders in a foul-smelling whirl and yanked her hood over her head. Properly obscured once more, she moved around Lee and made her way to the windows. 

“Follow,” she instructed. “I’ll get usssss out of here.” 

Dusa led the way down a rickety fire escape that Lee was certain would pull away from the building as they moved down it. Thankfully, they reached the ground unharmed and she took the lead now, heading down the side streets to reach the address that Zahra had texted her. There were a few people on the streets that Lee preferred to avoid. They reached their destination unobstructed and lingered outside, long enough for Lee to spot Roman coming down the block, pushing a metal shopping cart. He had his phone out and eyes glued to the screen so he didn’t see when Lee stepped into his path and put out her foot, stopping the cart.

“Oh, hey Doc, what’s good?” Roman asked. He was dressed even flashier than before in a Lakers jersey, thick gold chain, and a pair of Beats headphones around his neck.

“What’s good with you?” she asked, giving him an up and down look. “I hear you got a little business going.”

“I look fresh as hell, right?” he asked, arrogantly tugging on his collar. “I’m going around the Narrows getting paid, boss. That’s what’s good.”

“Well, get us inside and you’ll get another payday.”

Roman eagerly let them into the building and they all rode up in the elevator together. She could see him casting curious looks at Dusa who ignored the both of them. Lee couldn’t read her face but she appeared to be looking around her new surroundings with something like interest.

They emerged on Zahra’s floor and Roman let them into the apartment with the keys he’d been given. They all entered with Dusa trailing behind. The kitchen was to her right and Roman shoved the cart forward and started piling the grocery bags on the counter. This was Lee’s first time in Zahra’s home so she let her eyes wander. The place was cluttered and a bit messy but the furniture was stylish and didn’t look worn. The place smelled strongly of weed and incense but not enough to overpower Dusa’s stench. A bath had to be their first priority. She moved through the apartment, beckoning for Dusa to follow, and quickly found the bathroom. It clearly belonged to a single woman - it held a chaos of candles, make-up strewn over every available surface, and lacy undergarments hanging here and there. Lee stopped up the tub and turned the water to begin filling. Then she looked at Dusa. 

“Get undressed and into the tub and I’ll take a look at your wound.”

She moved around the other woman and exited the bathroom to retrieve a trash bag. Roman was still loading groceries into the fridge and cabinets when she walked up. Lee spied some money tacked to the fridge with a magnet and Roman’s name drawn across the front in stylistic script. She peeked under the sink in search of a bag when she heard the shattering of glass from the bathroom. Alarmed - and just a little annoyed - Lee grabbed a bag and quickly marched back to the bathroom. 

Dusa stood across from the sink and when Lee entered, she quickly turned her back to her. She’d removed her coat, her snakes slithered around her head, and her dark glasses had been removed and set on top of the closed toilet lid. The bathroom mirror lay in big jagged pieces in the sink. She had an inexplicable feeling of deja vu and forcefully recalled being trapped in Barbara Kean’s bathroom, shattering the mirror there to use as a weapon. She remembered repeatedly bashing Barbara’s head against the floor and shook herself, casting the memory away. 

“What happened?”

Dusa’s shoulders bunched defensively. “I didn’t mean to,” she said quietly. “I jussst haven’t sssseen my reflection in very long.” 

So, the power of her gaze seemed to effect non-organic beings as well as humans. _Rather fascinating_, she thought as she looked at the jagged pieces of mirror in the sink. To Dusa, she said, “Don’t worry about it for now. Put your old clothes in that bag.” While Dusa undressed, Lee carefully removed the broken mirror, setting the pieces in a stack on top of the toilet lid. She took Dusa’s glasses and ran them under the tap, began wiping the grim and grease off the lenses. 

They were clean when she heard Dusa step into the tub. Feeling a mad urge of curiosity, Lee put the blind shades on and looked towards the snake woman. She inhaled sharply. 

Dusa was standing straight and her height easily topped 6’5. Without her layers of clothes, Lee could see she was rake thin, without curve at breast or buttocks. Lee’s eyes darted low to the space between her legs and saw the absence of both pubic hair and male genitalia though her torso was a flat as any man’s. An atypical creation of androgynous elements. Her skin was mostly dark brown but here in the light of Zahra’s bathroom, Lee could see the many striations that covered Dusa’s skin, giving her the appearance of scales. Whenever she moved and the light struck her, it illuminated shiny, iridescent colors among the scales. Mostly green, black, blue, the occasional gold. That color passed over Dusa’s face, which Lee looked upon uncovered for the first time. Her eyes were humongous, a glaring burnt orange color, the black elliptical pupils slitted thin. Lee felt a strange drag, like her body becoming heavier, before she jerked her gaze away. Immediately, the oppressive feeling lifted. 

The water shut off and when Lee looked over, Dusa was sitting in the water, her knees drawn up to her chest, snakes slithering idly. Lee quickly gathered up Dusa’s clothes and wrapped them around the broken pieces of mirror before bagging the lot of it. “I’ll be right back,” she said before heading out into the living room. 

Roman was on the phone in the midst of a conversation. “I just dropped some groceries at Miss Zahra’s. No, Dad, I’m by myself. No, Dad, _just_ groceries, I swear. Uh huh. Yeah. Before ten. Okay. I’ll grab Alan on the way home. _Okay_, Dad.”

Lee kept quiet while he talked. She knew why the boy’s father seemed so overprotective. All-In had shared his family’s tragic history, a story of a mother and older brother killed in a carjacking several years ago. He had disclosed it to warn Lee off of involving his younger brother in anything that could be considered too dangerous. 

When Roman got off the phone, she passed him the bag of clothes and broken glass and asked him to dispose of it. When he exited the apartment, Lee added another twenty dollars to the sum on the fridge waiting for collection. She returned to the bathroom where Dusa sat, unmoved in the water. She grabbed a washrag off a hook on the wall and went to the tub which she knelt beside. 

“Can I take a look at your arm?” 

Wordlessly, Dusa extended her arm and Lee wiped dried blood away from the cut so she could inspect it properly. It was deep enough to need stitches so Lee retrieved her kit and got to work. She cleaned and disinfected the wound and quickly set in eight stitches and covered it with a dressing bandage. Through it all Dusa kept quiet, her snakes settled into a hissing lull while they laid down against her back. Lee kept a careful eye on the little reptiles. 

She finished her doctoring and sat back on her haunches, considering the creature in front of her. _What am I to do with you?_ she wondered to herself.

Her wandering eye spied a bucket next to the tub and when she reached for it, she realized it held about ten bath bombs. She picked one - shaped like a chalky, white cloud - and set in in the water. Immediately, a rainbow stream of color started pouring out of the cloud. Dusa inhaled sharply, her eyes focused solely on the color show in front of her. “What issss it?” she breathed softly. 

“A spell,” Lee said, improvising. “My friend who lives here is a witch. She can do all kinds of things.” 

“Like Alice,” Dusa said softly. “Ssshe could change a perssson with the ussse of her blood.” 

“I know,” Lee said swiftly. Dusa’s eyes swung towards her and Lee felt that peculiar weighed down feeling before she turned away. “I knew Alice. I tried to help her,” she continued. “Before she died.” 

Dusa lowered her chin to rest on her knees. “You sssstopped my attack with jusssst a touch. Your friend is a witch. How have you esssscaped death at the handssss of the hunter Gordon? I wassss made to believe he didn’t tolerate the pressssence of thosssse ssssuch assss ussss.” 

Dusa’s tone was agitated and Lee sought to soothe her. “This neighborhood, the Narrows, it’s a little different from the rest of Gotham. A person can hide and hide well in this place, as you well know. And I am responsible for the people who live here. I will always protect those that deserve it. Always.” 

Dusa was still but she was looked to be listening.

Lee’s attention was diverted by the sound of the front door opening. “I’ll be right back,” she assured Dusa before she stood and exited the bathroom.  
Zahra had entered her home in a whirl. She was wearing a black leather jacket over a burgundy jumpsuit with several of her top buttons undone and black wedge boots that lent two inches to her short frame. When she saw Lee, her eyes went wide in concern. 

“Doc! You know the streets is hot with the Undead kicking in doors and asking questions and shit? Are you good?” 

Lee took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. But I have another issue to deal with.” 

Zahra threw her keys onto her countertop and shrugged off her jacket to hang along a wall crowded with coats and scarves. She shot a glance at Roman who was preoccupied by his phone on her couch. She beckoned for Lee to follow her into the kitchen to the waiting table. Lee sat and Zahra retrieved two wineglasses and a bottle of rosé. She poured for Lee and then sat and poured herself a glass. “So,” she said finally. “Tell me what’s up.” 

Lee took a quick sip then blew out an impatient breath. “I found the person who killed Rafael’s nephew.” 

“That’s good! Isn’t it?” 

“Not really. I found out that Diego and his mates attacked the girl who he’d been harassing at Inferno. His killer saved that girl from being raped and maybe killed. If I turn the killer over to Rafael -” 

“He’ll kill him for sure,” Zahra finished. “But if you don’t then Rafael will try and take the Narrows from you.” 

She ran an irritated hand through her hair, certainly making it stick up in angles and slouched on the table. 

Zahra gave a mirthless chuckle. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” 

“Tell me about it,” Lee replied sarcastically. 

“So where’s your killer?” she asked, glancing into the living room. “Is he some super scary badass?” 

“He is a she,” Lee responded. “At least, I think. It’s hard to know if gender or sex applies in this instance.” 

Zahra tilted her head sideways and arched one eyebrow. “What does _that_ mean?” 

Lee grabbed her wineglass and stood, beckoning for Zahra to follow. The young woman quickly followed, trying to hide the eagerness she knew she felt. Lee went to the bathroom door and knocked lightly. “Dusa, will you put on your glasses, please?” 

She waited until she heard Dusa quietly call out, “They’re on,” before she pushed open the door. 

Zahra stepped in and immediately stopped in her tracks as she took in the sight of Dusa and her writhing snakes. “Ho-ly shit,” she said softly as her jaw dropped. 

“Zahra, this is Dusa. Dusa, this is Zahra, my friend. This is her house.” 

“Pleassssed to meet you,” Dusa said softly, nodding at Zahra. 

“Yeah, likewise,” Zahra said after a pause. She gave a strained smile. “Get clean and we’ll see about some food, okay?” She nodded politely and made to shut the door but before she did she caught sight of her ruined mirror. “What the hell happened there?” she demanded, the bass back in her voice. 

Lee shut the door for her. “I’ll explain.” 

Zahra turned away took hold of Lee’s arm, pulling her into the adjacent bedroom. Zahra’s room was a chaotic mess of clothing, hair pieces, and shoes scattered in every possible direction. “Ignore the mess,” she said and led Lee to her bed, the only clean surface in the room and the two of them dropped into its plush expanse. 

“So _what_ -” Zahra said after taking a sip of her drink. “- is going on with Lady Voldemort in my tub?” 

“She’s fascinating,” Lee said as she joined Zahra on her bed and also took a drink. “She’s an experiment out of Indian Hill. She broke out with the other mutated over eighteen months ago and has been in hiding since then.” 

“Can she really do like a Medusa? Turn a person to stone?” 

“Not real stone but essentially, yes. If she looks at you without those glasses on, you turn into a living statue.” 

Unexpectedly, Zahra cackled and shook her head. “I love this batshit city,” she gushed. “Listen,” she said suddenly, straightening up. “I’ve got plans later on. You care if I dress as we talk?” 

Lee waved her hand carelessly. “Your house.” 

She grinned and wiggled off the bed, taking a gulp of wine as she did so. She set aside her glass and started rummaging through her closet. “So. What’re you gonna do about Rafael?” She held up and considered a shiny silver and black cocktail dress.

Lee sighed lowly. “I can’t give Dusa over to him. Not a chance.” 

Zahra was unbuttoning her jumper and shimmying out of the red garment for the monochrome. “Is she worth dying over?” she asked plainly. “Because Rafael wants a head to roll. If he can’t have hers, he’ll come for yours.” 

“Let him,” she challenged quickly. She felt her body stiffen at the mere idea of the threat. Rafael was undoubtedly larger and stronger but she hadn’t trained under Vincent and Lolo to get taken out so easily. 

Zahra had stripped down to her underwear. Under her clothes she wore lacy black undergarments along with a waist trainer that squeezed her ample middle. She had stopped getting dressed and faced Lee with one hand on her hip and a stubborn expression on her face. 

“Doc? Can I give you some advice?” 

“Ooh, this sounds serious.” Lee took a big gulp of wine and met Zahra’s eyes. “Hit me.” 

“It seems to me you got one and only one option. You gotta kill him.” 

Lee blinked, her brow furrowed slightly. “You don’t think that’s extreme as a first course of action?” 

Zahra shook her head slowly. “Listen to me, Doc. I ain’t tryna be racist but those Puerto Rican guys are never gonna bow to a woman. It’s against their culture, that whole machismo shit. If he’s smiling in your face, he’s planning how to ice you behind your back. You can’t trust the man.” 

That much went without saying. He thought so little of her that he was willing to talk trash right in front of her. “I had hoped,” she said carefully, “To convince him to my way of thinking. To avoid unnecessary killing.” 

Zahra shook her head vehemently. “Doc.” She bit her lip, clearly hesitating, before she spoke next. “If you want to survive, you don’t have the luxury of being merciful,” she stated bluntly. “I hate to say this to you... but remember the last time a man threatened and disrespected you and you let him walk. Falcone bitch busted you up and a man lost his life.”

Sampson killing Robert Huang was not something she was soon to forget. “I will always remember,” she said coldly. 

“Then learn from the past,” Zahra encouraged. “Don’t let history repeat itself.” 

Lee looked at her. “Have you ever killed someone?” 

Zahra made a face then shook her head. “No, I haven’t. Ain’t gonna pretend like it’ll be easy. But this is what it takes to be a boss, to be a Queen. Hard ass decisions that take a lot of heart and a strong will to make. I _definitely_ think you got that in you.” 

“Really?” she asked unable to hide the hope in her voice. She so often felt uncertain; it was always reassuring to hear from an outside source how one was doing. 

“_Hell yeah_,” she assured her. “You’re fucking organized and smart as hell. You’re reliable and strong. You’re a natural born leader.” 

Lee looked away, trying to hide the furious blush on her face. “Sure, sure,” she said hurriedly. 

Zahra smiled as she started shimmying her way into her new outfit. “Why don’t you get your snake friend out of the tub? I think I have some clothes that I can put her in.” 

Lee moved to do just that. Dusa was shivering a little when she returned as the water had gone lukewarm. She got a towel and beckoned Dusa out of the tub and quickly wrapped her in the fabric. She led her through the living room, past Roman who was engrossed in his phone again, and back into Zahra’s bedroom. By the time they returned, Zahra had donned a long, straight-haired wig and was applying her makeup. Dusa pulled up short, her brow furrowing noticeably as she looked at Zahra. 

“You’ve changed your appearance,” she noted, quietly awestruck. 

“Sure did,” Zahra answered flippantly. “I’m about to do the same to you so buckle up.” She spun around in her chair and waved a hand at the clothes on the bed. “Put those on. Got no underwear to fit you so you’ll have to go commando.” 

Lee helped guide Dusa into the garments, a navy blue maxi skirt and a loose-fitting cream colored blouse. She was still peculiar to look at but she no longer looked ragged and dirty. Zahra had laid out her makeup across the surface of her vanity and bade Dusa to sit. The snake-woman did, her eyes glancing over the unfamiliar devices. 

“Are thesssse your paintssss and potionsss, witch?” 

Zahra shot a quick and pointed look at Lee. Lee gave her a patient one in return and nodded minimally. 

“Yeeeah,” Zahra agreed slowly. “That’s right. Before we get started, are these –“ she pointed and circled her finger at Dusa’s nest of snakes. “-gonna try and make a meal of me?” 

“No,” Dusa said and as she spoke, her snakes settled down, hissing quietly. “They are me,” she said simply. 

Zahra nodded, clearly intent to just roll with whatever strange antic was thrown her way. “Alright then. Let’s get into this Black girl magic.”

She commenced with making up Dusa’s face. She gave her a dark red lipstick that made her modest lips more plump and shapely. A glowing, shimmering powder placed strategically brought out the strange color glimmers in Dusa’s skin. She drew on thin, dramatic eyebrows where before there had been none and carefully contoured the lines under her eyes to more prominently shape her nose. 

“Can you take off your glasses?” Zahra asked. “I’m thinking of giving you a wicked wingtip but you can’t go turning me to stone so shut your eyes.” 

Dusa looked at her. “I cannot.” 

“Can’t what?” 

“Sssshut my eyessss.” 

“You can’t?” she repeated, confused. “How do you sleep?” 

Dusa shrugged. “I jusssst do,” she answered. 

Lee was looking up information on her phone and supplied a fact she’d just read. “Apparently, snakes don’t have eyelids.” 

“I’ll be damned,” Zahra said under her breath. “That is some trippy shit.” 

She concluded the look by wrapping Dusa’s snakes in a patterned headwrap and artfully pinned. The entire look transformed her from a strange and frightening beast to a conservative, stylish Muslimah. It was incidental that the fabric covering her snakes was pinned in a way similar to a hijab but it helped the overall look. 

Dusa stared at herself in the mirror, clearly surprised and impressed. “Your magic issss great,” she said softly, gently touching the glimmering spots of her scales. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome!” she said brightly as she snapped a picture for her Instagram. “It’s all in a day’s work!” 

“Dusa.” Lee spoke up, gathering her attention. “We need to work out what happens next.” 

Dusa faced her silently, waiting to hear from her. 

“I can’t leave you on the streets,” she explained. “If another confrontation happens between you and the Undead, someone could wind up collateral damage and I can’t have that. But if you agree to work with me, I can bring you under my protection and stop this conflict that threatens the Narrows. Do you understand that?” 

Dusa listened carefully before she spoke. “Fissssh ssspoke of sssssomething ssssimilar. Conflictssss and armiessss and more that held little meaning for me. But if it’ssss a matter of allegiance…” Her words trailed off before she glanced at Lee. “Do I need to ansssssswer right now?” 

“No,” she answered quickly. “I’ll give you a day to decide how you want to move forward. Just know, if you choose to remain in the Narrows, that means you fall in with me. But before we talk about that, let’s discuss how we’re going to deal with Rafael Martinez.” 

Lee laid out the plan in under an hour. Pumped up, Zahra offered her place for the night and her services as a stylist. Lee was willing to oblige her and she crashed early on Zahra’s bed while Dusa took the couch and devoted herself to getting more than ten hours of sleep. She was invigorated the next time she woke and quickly set about getting ready with Zahra’s helpful eye and expertise. 

That evening, after getting her players in place, Lee entered Cherry’s with Zahra at her back. She was dressed in a deep blue cocktail dress matched with her familiar white coat and thick-heeled black boots, her hair tied into a high ponytail. Her manicure was fresh, her lips dark, and her whole mood electrified and ready. There was going to be some madness tonight and she intended to be in control of it. 

Upon recognizing her, the crowd quickly parted to clear a path and let her through. Roxy was at the bar, slinging drinks with both hands when she saw Lee. She tapped the other bartender, Xan, to cover for her and stepped away to join Lee and Zahra. 

“Hey Doc,” she greeted happily. Her black and white hair was falling in loose curls around her shoulders. “What’s rocking?” 

“All good,” she answered calmly. “How about here?” 

Roxy cast a sly glance around then leaned in to speak lowly. “Lila’s gone to get the girl. Vinny’s with the snake lady and the Med Students are in place.” 

She nodded. “And the Undead?” 

Roxy sucked her teeth. “On the way. Can you believe those _pendejos_ really expected _us_ to come down to _them_?” 

“That’s the way they are,” Zahra commented bluntly with a shrug. 

“I told them, the Queen of the Narrows tells you to get your ass to Cherry’s then that’s where the meet’ll be. _Entiendes_?” 

Lee gave a brittle smile. “Let’s hope our friends are open to being a little more cooperative.” 

She left her friends to see to other accommodations. The tables had been pushed aside to clear a space, onto which someone had laid down a sheet of plastic. Beyond the cleared area, a table awaited her along with a plush armchair. On the table was her first aid kit, a bottle of rum, and a crystal cut glass. She picked up the bottle and poured herself a controlled amount just as Vincent approached, his spiked bat propped against his shoulder. 

“Hey Doc? How ya feeling?” 

She shrugged as she took a generous swallow. “As well as I’m gonna be,” she answered cryptically. “All things in place here?” 

“Sure,” Vinny answered. “No outsiders in the bar tonight. Lolo and the others are in position. The snake woman’s up high on your three.” 

Taking another sip to look casual, Lee turned her eyes to where Vinny indicated. Dusa stood on the upper level with Lolo nearby. She nodded to herself and took her seat. The show would soon begin.

She knew when the crowd quieted that her guests of honor had showed up. The regular bar patrons parted to make room and Rafael Martinez sauntered up. On either side of him stood Oscar Perez and Alejandro Lopez and behind those three they were flanked by half a dozen undead, all conspicuously armed with firearms bulging noticeably from their pockets and waistbands. Rafael was done up in full Undead makeup, his grin stretched from ear to ear with black paint, and a machete hung from his belt. He stepped to the edge of the laid down plastic and smiled at her. “_Buenas noches_, Doc,” he said pleasantly. “A nice night for some bloodletting, no?” 

She leaned back in her chair leisurely trailing one fingernail around the rim of her glass. “You could say so,” she said softly. 

“You tell me you’ve found my nephew’s killer,” Rafael said, raising his voice. “Bring the murderer out!” 

“Before that can happen,” Lee answered. “We’ll go over the events of that night for all to hear.” She uncrossed her legs and stood up. The sea of plastic put about six feet between her and the Undead and she felt Vincent at her back. She straightened to her full height and addressed the crowd. 

“On the night in question, three men went out for a night on the town. The deceased, Diego Diaz, and these two,” she said, gesturing to Oscar and Alejandro. “Partied it up in a club called Inferno where Diego caught the eye of a young woman. She rebuffed his advances and that should have been the end of it but the three men followed this young woman out of the club back to the Narrows and attacked her.” 

The crowd pushed to the edges of the bar shuffled as murmurs and sounds of disgust rang out. Rafael was glaring at her, caught off guard. “What does any of that have to do with who killed my nephew?”

Lee continued. “The person who murdered Diego Diaz did so to prevent him and his friends from committing rape and possibly murder on their victim who I have learned is a _seventeen year old girl_.” 

That was the trigger that got people loudly voicing their displeasure, shouting out boo’s and other condemnation. The Undead members shifted closer together, clearly uncomfortable, but Rafael stepped forward, away from them, incensed. 

“You’re choosing to harbor a killer?” he asked, low and dangerous. “You’re going back on our deal.”

Lee looked at him and she merely smiled. “This is the Narrows, Rafael,” she said innocently. “We’re all killers one way or another.” The crowd sent up a rowdy cheer and she surveyed him closely before shrugging lightly. “When I agreed to our deal, the details weren’t known to me. A killer who saved a teenage girl from brutality is not someone I’m inclined to get rid of,” she stated coolly. “Now, two men who would prey on a child is a different story.” She turned her back on them and called, “Oscar, Alejandro, step forward please.” 

“_¡No te muevas!_” Rafael spat. _Don’t move._ When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Rafael holding back both men by putting up his hands. 

“No dice, Doc,” he said coldly. “If you ain’t bringing out the murderer, we ain’t got nothing to talk about.” 

“Oh?” she said gently. “I think you’ll find that that’s wrong, Rafael.” 

She snapped her fingers and a lot of people burst into motion at once. There were plants in the crowd, handpicked by Vincent, and at her signal they crowded around Rafael and his cohorts. The Undead militia snatched for their weapons but the Med Students stationed on the upper level loudly cocked their guns and pointed down into the crowd. Vincent was moving forward just as Rafael reached for his machete. He shoved the other man, catching him off guard and off balance, and pulled the weapon from his belt. Vincent’s men shoved Rafael again, effectively separating him from Oscar and Alejandro who looked startled to find themselves surrounded, forced to appeal the mercy of the Queen of the Narrows.

Lee sat and crossed her legs, regaining her imperious pose. Vincent’s men shoved Oscar and Alejandro forward while Vincent blocked Rafael from interfering. Lee reached over to her first aid kit and withdrew black latex gloves that she slipped her hands into. This got the crowd making noise, excited cheering in anticipation for the blood that was about to spill. 

Vincent’s men grappled with Rafael’s until both men were forced to bow, knees and elbows pressed into their backs. Frankie, a Med Student, had moved to help Vincent contend with Rafael who strained against the others pushing him in. Frankie killed most of their resistance when he pulled two silver pistols and pointed them in Rafael’s face. “Hey!” he barked, snatching their attention and quieting them down. “You came to hear the Queens’ judgement so shut the fuck up and listen.” 

Lee’s eyes widened slightly as the men settled down and the crowd jeered at their submission. That feeling that was beginning to bloom in her chest was one of _rightness_. Her heart was hammering in her chest but she felt calm and in control, despite the wildness that raged around her. She had fought, and bled, to achieve the position she’d gained. And she realized with dawning clarity that she was willing to go further to keep her seat of power. 

Vincent was back at her side and he’d returned with Rafael’s machete that he offered her, handle first. She took it and stood and the crowd fell into a tense silence as she walked to where the two men had been forced to their knees. 

“I heard from the victim,” she stated loudly. “Now I’ll hear from the accused. I want you two to tell me what happened that night.” 

The two men were shaking before her. Oscar shot a scared glance at his compatriot before he cast his panicked gaze on her. “It wasn’t us, Doc,” he said quickly. “It was all Diego. We just... It was his idea! Not ours! He made us do it!” 

“That’s not true.” 

Lee’s focus switched to Alejandro. He wasn’t struggling like his fellow; he kept his head lowered to the plastic beneath him. 

“It isn’t true,” he insisted again. “It was Diego’s idea,” he admitted. “But he didn’t force us.” His voice lowered with shame. “We followed his lead of our free will.” 

“What are you doing?!” Oscar demanded but Lee had heard just about enough. 

She brought up the machete and tapped her sharp nails against the metal blade. “That was easier than I expected,” she admitted. “Let’s see those hands.” 

The Med Students forced the kneeling men to outstretch their hands. Lee lifted the machete, bringing the blade to her eye level. “If a man can’t keep his hands to himself,” she said softly. “I think it only fair that we should cut off the offending hand.” 

The crowd immediately whooped in agreement. Oscar tried to fight out of the grip the others had on him. Alejandro merely bowed his head to the floor, all the fight gone out of him. It was him that Lee stepped in front of, the point of the machete coming under his chin to force his eyes up. She gave him a long considering look before she lowered the blade and nodded at the Students around him. They quickly snatched Alejandro back to his feet and dragged him out of the way. 

Her attention turned to Oscar. She moved to where he knelt and crouched down so that she could meet his gaze at his level. When she began to speak in low tones, she could feel the other patrons pressing close to hear her. 

“I’m willing to believe that Diego was the brains of this fit,” she stated. “So, in that case, I will show you mercy.” She saw his eyes light up with hopeful relief before she continued, clarifying. “I won’t take your whole hand. Hold him.” 

The Students gripped his wrists, forcing him to keep his hands flat on the floor and Lee positioned her machete carefully before she pressed down, cleanly severing Oscar’s pinky and ring finger on his right hand. While he screamed and bucked, she drew the blade sideways and cut his pointer and middle finger of his left hand off at the first joint. 

The wild cheering of the crowd drowned out the man’s screams. She didn’t let the noise swell too loud before she demanded sharply, “_Next!_”

The Med Students hauled Oscar to his feet, collecting his severed digits and pushed Rafael into his place. The crowd hurriedly fell into a harsh silence as Lee stepped forward. Rafael glared up at her and Lee didn’t hesitate to put the blade to his throat. Now she saw the fear reflected in the man’s dark eyes. 

“I’ve delivered my judgement,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes. “You can respect that or you can continue to fight. What’s it going to be?” 

Around her, she heard sounds of protest rising up from the crowd. They didn’t want an ultimatum, they wanted bloodshed. But she kept her focus on Rafael because what he did next would matter the most. 

The man gulped heavily, his Adam’s apple moving under the blade at his skin. He met Lee’s eyes and said softly, “I... I won’t challenge you. I’ll accept the judgement.” 

Those words would have been a success if she hadn’t been looking into his eyes as he spoke them. She saw the relief that her question brought - his perceived assurance that she didn’t intend to kill him - and she saw the anger he hid under his acquiescence. It was just as Zahra described; he could pledge fealty and submission but she would never truly believe that act. 

So she pressed in with the blade, feeling his pulse as surely as her own heartbeat, hammering away in her ears. To him, she whispered, “_¡Tu mientes!_” _You lie._ She saw the dawning realization light up his eyes but she didn’t let it slow her. She applied pressure, the blade bit into skin, and she spun, dragging it across Rafael’s neck as she did so. A warm fountain of blood sprayed across the back of her coat and she heard the gurgling sounds of Rafael struggling for breath and then the thud as his body hit the floor. She didn’t turn to look on her handiwork; instead she walked to her waiting throne as the crowd lost its mind, sending excited chatter into the air. 

“Did you see that?!” 

“The Doc’s a savage!” 

“She ripped his neck clean out! Cold blooded!” 

She sat and watched as blood poured out of Rafael, onto the plastic sheeting. She’d killed a man and she needed a moment to register that fact. While she breathed deeply she watched the crowd, shifting in its jubilation. It was always said that Narrows denizens loved nothing more than cold blooded murder and their frenzy was proving the stereotype. Roxy and Xan were at the bar hurriedly mixing cocktails for people wanting to raise a toast to Lee. All-In was quietly speaking with some Med Students, directing them in their clean-up and body removal. She even spotted Desmond O’dair who was sitting by himself far back in the bar. When he caught her eye, he raised his drink in acknowledgement but Lee wasn’t done yet. 

She called out into the room, “Ramona Silva! Come forward!” 

The crowd quieted, looking around for Ramona before she stood, showing her white-painted face. The bar patrons parted for her and she stepped forward. 

“Doctor Thompkins,” she addressed her calmly. 

“There lies your uncle,” she said bluntly, nodding to the bloody corpse Ramona stood next to. “Do you understand why he had to die?” 

Ramona looked down at the bloody mess then back at Lee. “Yes,” she stated. 

There was no anger in the woman’s voice, Lee noted. She had a suspicion and she voiced it now. “I received a link to Diego’s Instagram that showed some of what conspired on the night he died. You’re the one that sent it, aren’t you?” 

Ramona didn’t answer but she smiled widely, a skeletal grin and Lee had all the answer she needed. It was enough to pose her next statement. 

“I understand your uncle didn’t have any children. If so, that makes you his next of kin.” 

One of Ramona’s eyebrows arched delicately as her grin lessened slightly. “Yes, I believe it does,” she said in a tone of mocking innocence.

“In that case, if you want to lead the Undead,” Lee declared. “Then you will have my support to do so. And I ask for your loyalty and support in return. If its vengeance you hunger for then we can organize a match, a fight to the death for control of the Narrows. It’s your choice.” 

Silence fell. And it held for some seconds before Ramona stepped away from the crowd, towards where Lee sat, and lowered herself to a crouch, a bow of subservience. “I accept your judgement,” she said. “And your rule.” She stood up and faced the crowd, finding her fellow Undead in the crowd. “_Larga vida a la reina!_” she cried. 

Long live the Queen.

The crowd once again erupted in its boisterous cheers and Lee felt a flush of emotions: relief, satisfaction, happiness. It was truly an ecstatic feeling and she sent up her trademark celebratory cry: _“Drinks on the house!”_


End file.
